Drums
by HumbleOpinion1
Summary: Jem and the Holograms need a new drummer. Three talented people make it to the finals; Craig Philips, Reya Alonzo, and my own original character. This is her story. Please read and review whether you love it or hate it.
1. A Chance Meeting

DRUMS

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I don't have a decent computer or an internet connection of my own at the moment. This is a Jem and the Holograms story and will, more or less follow the show. A few things have been changed or reordered for reasons that will become obvious. It is AU but not a self-insert. I needed practice developing original characters so I thought I'd put one into a familiar setting. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

CH. 1 A CHANCE MEETING

Kara Mistral sat at the table outside the small Chinese restaurant on W. Temple enjoying the early June sunshine, absently beating a rhythm on the edge of the table and people-watching. The cloudless sky and gentle breeze made it, in her opinion, a perfect day to be outside. It was one of the reasons she was sitting on the patio but not the only one. Her habit of drumming on the table tended, she knew, to annoy people. It helped her focus, though, so, while she tried to be considerate, she didn't refrain from doing it entirely. The cheap wooden chopsticks the restaurant provided for their customers were a poor substitute for drumsticks, but they produced the rhythm that soothed her nerves, and at the moment, Kara needed it.

She had a lot on her mind and not a lot of time to make some important decisions. For the last two months, she had had a job running errands and making deliveries that she had gotten through a friend who was moving on to greener pastures. It had its perks, and she had definitely worked worse jobs, but it paid barely enough for her to make ends meet, and she knew she'd be short on the rent if the gig she had been promised the following night fell through.

March Rain needed a fill-in drummer for a club date. The band wasn't that good, and would never make it big, but Kara didn't particularly care. She would get a cut of the evening's take and that would allow her to catch up on her rent. _Maybe_, she thought, _there'll even be enough left over for a package or two of cookies for the girls._ It was aggravating to have to rely on luck and a few notoriously flaky contacts to offer her such opportunities, but the most recent band she had been a part of, RPM, had fallen apart two weeks ago, and there were no immediate prospects.

If the club date fell through, then she would have to get the rent money another way. She had learned the hard way over the years that a backup plan was always necessary when one lived hand to mouth. Since she had the girls to think about, she always tried to have more than one.

She considered and discarded several while she drummed. It was too soon to sell blood again. Mr. Morales, her upstairs neighbor, had gone, with his little boy, to visit his mother so there was no babysitting to be done that week. A pity, since his three-year-old son, Ramon, was a handful, so Morales paid pretty well. Mrs. Zuniga in 1C worked at home, so the couple rarely needed a babysitter. They might appreciate a night out, though. The girls and Jaime got along well, so that was never a chore. The Night Owl over on East Eighth might need an extra waitress who could double as a bouncer if it got too busy come Friday night, but that meant she would have to ask Mrs. Markison to watch the girls, since Friday was family night for the Zunigas. She already owed Markison a favor, though, and the idea didn't appeal.

The March Rain tune she was beating out reached the most difficult section for the drummer and she began focusing on her playing while humming under her breath to be sure she kept time. This held her attention and allowed her to stop thinking for the brief time it took to finish the bridge. Then it was back to trying to find a way not to become homeless.

The applause was a welcome distraction, and she glanced up to see a man, maybe five or six years older than herself standing nearby and smiling. "You've got real talent," he said, and she thought he meant it. Kara had heard it often enough from musicians she worked with to know it was true, but as always, the first thing that came to mind was Edgar Blackmon, the supervisor at the city orphanage where she used to live, referring to her drumming as 'an undiagnosed neurological affliction.'

She banished that memory to a back corner of her mind and sent several four letter words sailing after the sneering visage for good measure, before offering the stranger a small smile. "Thanks."

"Do you play professionally?" he asked with a note of keen interest in his voice. He was well-built, though not muscular, with a tan that suggested he spent a fair amount of time outdoors. Clean shaven with thick dark hair, he looked like the all-American type. She took all this in immediately and concentrated on assessing his potential as a physical threat. It was something that came automatically to her, and while she understood the source of the behavior and never tried to change it, she often wondered what it said about her as a person that she immediately regarded each new person as a potential threat before doing anything else.

"I do," she answered, not sure what the man wanted, but keeping her tone light while she sized him up. "I've played with a few small time bands."

"I'm the road manager for a group that's holding auditions at the moment. They need a new drummer. If you can sound that good on an actual set of drums, then I think you've got a good chance."

"Which group?" she asked, not daring to get her hopes up. The universe seemed to love to dash them.

"Jem and the Holograms," he answered. "They're holding auditions today down at Starlight Music. I'm Rio Pacheco, by the way."

"Kara Mistral." She set down the chopsticks on the mostly empty paper plate and held out a hand which he shook firmly. "I passed Starlight Music earlier today," she suddenly remembered with a pang of disappointment. "The line was around the block. I don't think I have a few hours to spare for a chance to be one in a thousand considered."

The man chuckled and nodded. "I can understand that. It sounds like a longshot when you look at it that way, but I can get you around the line and into an audition in no time. I've heard a few of the hopefuls play, and I can tell you the band would welcome a chance to listen to someone with talent."

It still sounded like a longshot, at best, Kara thought. Too good to be true at worst but if she could actually get into the group, or even just make a contact with such a prominent band, it would be worth the time and effort. Rio seemed genuine enough, but surface appearance was no indication. She made her decision in a second, deciding to take the risk. "I've got one more delivery. It's only a block or so from there, and I can't be late." She glanced at her bike where it stood, chained to a trashcan. "Maybe an hour."

He followed her gaze and saw the 10-speed. "Is that how you're getting around? I can get you there faster." He indicated a van parked nearby. "I can put your bike on the roof of my van. Back is full of equipment."

Kara rethought the situation and the offer. She knew nothing about the guy, and while he seemed normal enough, Kara knew all too well that looks could be deceiving. She shifted slightly in her seat and felt the reassuring presence of her buck knife in her hip pocket. If she kept her eyes on him, she concluded, she should be fine.

Oblivious to her concerns, he was looking at the strangely bulging backpack that sat next to her chair. "That looks a bit awkward. Don't you have a car?"

"Not today," Kara replied, repressing a sigh of irritation at the inconvenience. "It broke down day before yesterday."

"I know a good mechanic," the man offered, but Kara shook her head.

"I've got it covered." She glanced at what was left of her beef and broccoli and forced down the last few bites. It wasn't terribly good, but it was cheap, and the portions the place served were large. One of the lessons life at the orphanage had taught Kara was to never let food go to waste. "Okay. Let's go."

She let Pacheco put the bike up on the roof and secure it with straps from the back of the van that, Kara was pleased to see, was full of amps, musical instruments, and similar paraphernalia. "Kind of a pain getting around in the city on that, isn't it?" he asked.

"It is," she agreed, climbing into the passenger seat next to him, "but I don't have a lot of options. I'm lucky my boss let me use it and only carry packages I could manage with it. Hopefully, Vinnie will have the new starter motor done by tomorrow night."

"He your mechanic?" Rio asked pulling into traffic.

"Yes." She had gotten a pretty good price, too. Vinnie Torino was the lead guitar of Tangerine Sunrise. He had offered to fix it if she played drums for the demo tape the group was making. There was no need to mention this, though. It was an odd arrangement, and probably not something professional musicians or music company execs would do or approve of.

"How long do you think it'll take? I'm due at Flash Recording studio later this afternoon," she told him, remembering the appointment. Tangerine Sunrise had the time booked. "I need to be there at 3:30." They were a good band, but she didn't really fit with them. The rhythm always seemed a bit off when the four friends that made up the group made a substitution. The music sounded fine, but the rhythm of the band itself, the group dynamic, was off. Still, they needed a temporary drummer to get the demo tape done, and Kara had agreed.

"No problem," Rio assured her. "The audition shouldn't take long, but they may want to spend a little time talking to you. How about I drive you over if it looks like you'll be running late?"

"I'd appreciate that," Kara nodded, wondering yet again what he wanted from her. It was possible he was just a nice guy, but those were rare in her experience. He followed her directions to the office building housing the offices of Franklin & Hauser, where a lawyer was impatiently waiting for a telephone book thick document.

Kara didn't like the place. Like every other place, group, or individual, the law office had its own rhythm. The rhythm there was rushed, frantic, and off-balance. Then there was the man she always had to deal with.

She collected the signature of a paralegal named Al, whose eyes never rose above the neckline of her blouse while he tried, yet again, to hit on her. Since this particular law office was a regular stop for her, she refrained from commenting or punching. As per usual, the creep gave her a good tip in the hopes of winning her over, and she left feeling vaguely dirty.

Rio noted her scowl when she got in. "Problem?"

She shook her head, not bothering to offer an explanation.

"Time to see about that audition," he grinned, and they headed for Starlight Music.

Three minutes later, thanks to green traffic lights between them and their destination, the van turned in to the parking lot of a steel and glass office building on Central Ave. that, Kara noted, still had a frighteningly long line of hopefuls waiting to get in. Pacheco maneuvered carefully through the crowded lot and pulled the van into space near the entrance. "Come on," he said, getting out and locking up the van.

Kara followed him through a side door and an empty service corridor to a freight elevator, absently wondering as she did how her street clothes would go over at the audition. Quite a few in the line of hopefuls had made an effort to dress to impress, and she looked rather plain beside some of them. That wasn't the most important thing on her mind, though. Indecision plagued her over what to do for the audition. As she knew next to nothing about the group, Kara didn't know whether to pick a difficult piece that would demonstrate her technical skill, or go for a powerful, driving beat that would evoke an emotional response. It was hard to know ahead of time, as different groups valued different things.

She had been present when a, since disbanded, Rising Stars had auditioned a skilled base player. The man had been good, very good, but Keith, the leader of the short-lived group, had dismissed him because the playing lacked 'soul'. A saxophone player had been advised to keep practicing because, while she had passion, she didn't yet have the skill.

The band had broken up barely a month later, after one too many record producers had told Keith that _he_ lacked the skill. Kara thought the assessment a bit unfair, but she was the second member of the group to leave when the hot-tempered guitarist had started a very loud and public argument with the owner of an East Hollywood dance club and gotten them thrown out. The subsequent arguments and recriminations had been far from pleasant the other members each blamed each other and Kara just wanted out of the mess the band had become.

The Rising Stars wasn't the only band she'd been a member of that had fallen apart, but it was the first, and it had made her wary. Her musings were interrupted by the grumblings of a skinny kid with a mohawk that had, for some strange reason, a bongo drum hanging around his neck. Kara refocused on the upcoming audition and decided to split the difference between technical difficulty and emotion. There were several things she could play that would satisfy both requirements.


	2. Audition

CH. 2 AUDITION

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I don't have an internet connection of my own at the moment.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

The audition was being held in one of the company's practice rooms. It had a drum kit, a keyboard, and two guitars on stands. A table and several chairs had been set up on the other side of the room for the group to watch the auditions. The three women waiting there looked to be at the ends of their respective ropes.

"I didn't know there were so many bad drummers in the world," a redhead, who must have been about Kara's age, whined. A slightly older pink-haired woman was holding her head as if trying to ward off a migraine.

"Hello ladies," Pacheco greeted them cheerfully. All three glanced up at him as they entered. By their expressions, Kara guessed that they were annoyed that he seemed so upbeat while they were suffering. "I think I've got the answer to your problems."

"You brought aspirin and ear plugs?" a blue-haired Chinese woman perked up, giving him a big smile; then, she glanced at the pink-haired woman. "If you don't marry him soon, I may." Pink-hair gave the Chinese woman a tired smile while the redhead burst out in giggles.

"Ah… Actually...," Pacheco answered, trying to ignore the teasing but actually blushing, "when I stopped for lunch, I met someone I think has real potential." They looked over at him and saw Kara waiting by the door. He turned and gestured her over. "This is Kara Mistral. If what I heard earlier is any indication, she may be just what you're looking for."

_Perhaps this isn't the best time_, Kara reflected as she eyed the group skeptically. They seemed a bit punchy. _First impression? _Kara thought._ The rhythm here has hit a rough patch, stumbling and awkward, but there is a steady beat under that. _

"You try listening to drummer auditions for five hours straight," the redhead told her, noticing Kara's expression and stifling her giggles with an effort. "Which reminds me, where's lunch?"

Pacheco stilled and blinked for a moment. "Oops."

The three actually seemed to sag in dejection. "Okay," Pink-hair said. "One more audition then we sneak out for lunch." She looked at Kara properly for the first time. "Rio's hard to impress. Let's hear what you've got."

Kara moved to the drum kit and picked up the sticks. She twirled them with her fingers to test their feel and nodded, satisfied. She was still pondering which beat to use, so she began absently using one stick to produce a double stroke that sounded remarkably like a heartbeat. After a few seconds she started producing another simple rhythm with the other stick. The small audience stared at her and Kara smiled as inspiration struck. The 'pulse' she was beating out with her left hand increased in speed as if the pulse were quickening with excitement, and she swung into _Heart Throb_ by March Rain.

A few minutes later, she brought the beat to an end with a flourish she usually reserved for stage shows, which, in essence, this was. Her audience stood and applauded. "That was great!" The redhead enthused. "Perfect for the new single I'm working on!"

They questioned her briefly about her musical training and background. How long she had been playing and what experience she had performing. Kara was forthcoming with most of her experience in the music industry, listing most of the bands she'd played with and her stage and studio experience. It was clear some of the bands were unknown to them, which wasn't a surprise, but they didn't question her too closely about any of them. When satisfied, the band withdrew to the table at the end of the room for a quiet conference.

The three women whispered for a few moments while Kara waited patiently for their decision. Finally, Pink-hair, who she suddenly remembered was their lead singer, turned back to her. "Congratulations, Kara," Jem smiled. "You're definitely among the semi-finalists."

Kara nodded. "Thank you for the opportunity."

"The next step has more to do with how you get along with the band and the other people you'd be working with. We're throwing a small party at Starlight Mansion this Saturday. All those that make the cut by Wednesday will be invited. You'll meet the Starlight girls and we'll get to know each other."

"Saturday?" Kara thought hard. Markison would be unavailable, as would the Zuniga family. Morales would still be out of town. Jo was in San Francisco till Sunday on a photo shoot. There was no one else she really trusted, that didn't already have plans.

"Is there a problem?" the lead singer asked.

"I don't know if I can get a babysitter for Saturday."

"Oh? You have a baby?" Jem asked.

"Twin girls," Kara confirmed. She had a picture of the three of them in her purse but resisted the urge to display her angels. It wasn't the right time for that and would probably raise a question or two she didn't want to answer at the moment.

"Well bring them along," the redhead, Kara made a note to learn their names, offered. "I'm sure the Starlight girls would love to meet them."

Kara repressed a sigh of relief. "Starlight girls?" That had been mentioned earlier, she recalled.

"Starlight Music largely supports the Starlight Foundation," Jem explained, "a home for foster girls. Our manager, Jerrica Benton, runs it as well as the company. The girls live at Starlight Mansion along with the band."

"All right," Kara agreed. "We'll be there. I rarely get to treat them." She had definite opinions about orphanages and group foster homes but knew it wasn't the time or place for that either. _Who knows?_ She thought, _maybe this place is different_.

"Is your husband working or can he come?" the redhead asked.

"I'm not married," Kara shook her head, regretting that the topic came up so soon, but not bothering to hide her situation. It would come out eventually, and she wouldn't gain anything by being less than forthcoming.

"Oh. Boyfr-?"

"He died before the twins were born," Kara interrupted, a bit more abruptly than she'd intended. That was definitely a topic to avoid at a first meeting. "I'm sorry," she sighed, annoyed with herself. "I didn't mean to snap, but it… isn't my favorite topic."

"No. I'm sorry," she said, and the others in the room either looked sympathetic or looked elsewhere. "I didn't know."

"No way you could have," Kara assured her, easily. "See you Saturday?" The group agreed, happy to put the momentary awkwardness behind them, and Kara left to keep her appointment with Tangerine Sunrise. There were still two hours before the recording session, but she accepted Pacheco's offer of a ride to the studio anyway. She could use the extra time to learn more about the band she had just auditioned for and get some different perspectives.

ROCKNROLLROCKNROLLROCKNROLL

Vinnie Torino was a big man. He stood 6'3" and kept himself in good shape. He was what Kara had heard referred to as a 'hail-fellow-well-met' sort, though she wasn't entirely clear what that meant. He smiled easily and was usually cheerful, so it had initially come as a surprise when Vinnie introduced the group's taciturn base player as his wife. It was hard to imagine two people more different.

It was his wife, Jane, who met her at the entrance to Flash Recording Studio and led her back to where Tangerine Sunrise was waiting and preparing as best they could before entering the room. It was still occupied and would be for another hour.

"Kara!" Vinnie called out with a grin when the two women entered the room. "Glad you came early. I could use your ear in making sure everything is properly tuned."

"Okay. I've got something to talk to you about while we work." She told the band about the audition and explained the circumstances behind it while they tuned and double-checked all of the instruments.

"Pretty lucky," Vinnie nodded. "If you can get in with _that_ group, your set." He grinned, "I'm sure you'll fit in with 'em just fine, stunner that you are."

"I don't know that much about them," Kara admitted, ignoring the compliment. Vinnie liked to flirt, much to the irritation of his wife, even though both knew he'd never act on it. "A few things I've picked up from the TV, but I rarely have time to watch, let alone read the trade news."

Vinnie knew her situation and helped out when he could. It was one of the reasons he had gone to her first when the band's drummer broke his hand. "Jane's a big fan of Jem." He glanced at his wife. "She can probably tell you anything you want to know, and there are probably some trade magazines lying around here somewhere. It is a recording studio after all."

The rest of the time before the session was spent learning everything Jane knew about Jem and the Holograms. After the session, Kara went through the trade magazines and scandal sheets, of which the studio had quite a few.


	3. Semi-finals

CH. 3 SEMI-FINALS

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I don't have an internet connection of my own at the moment. Come on folks! One review so far? I was hoping for more. Let me know h ow I'm doing!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

The car was running fine for a 15-year-old salvage. Vinnie had been better than his word, and the old Dodge Duster hadn't performed as well when she'd bought it. When Starlight Mansion came into view, the girls 'oohed' and 'ahed', and Kara had to admit that the place was impressive.

_The place_, she reminded herself, _isn't as important as the people_. Her own experiences in the state's care had left her jaded, she knew, but that didn't mean it was wrong to be wary. Casting a glance in the rearview mirror as she stopped at the gate, Kara allowed herself a fond smile at the sight of her girls. For their sakes, she really hoped this played out. She rolled down the window and pressed the button on the speaker.

A young girl answered the buzz and asked her name. "Kara Mistral. I'm here at Jem's invitation."

"Oh, you're here for the party! Come in." _One of the foster girls must have been given the job of greeting people_. She pulled through when the ornate iron gate opened and made her way up the long circular drive, finding a parking place not too far from the door. A variety of vehicles already crowded the circular drive. None were as old and beat up as the Dodge Duster she drove, but there were no Cadillacs or sports cars in evidence either. She put the car in park and got out, pausing only briefly to put the buck knife in the glove compartment. She was so used to carrying it, she'd pocketed the folding blade as she left the apartment, but she doubted her hosts would appreciate her showing up to the party armed.

The front door opened and a slender blond woman in jeans and a pale blue shirt came down the front steps to greet her. "Hi. I'm Jerrica Benton, head of Starlight Music. Welcome to Starlight Mansion."

"Kara Mistral," Kara replied pulling the seat forward to give the girls a chance to get out before turning back to Benton. "Thanks for letting me bring the girls."

"No problem. I thought you might need a hand with the…babies?" she asked as two excited 6-year-olds piled out, looking up at the mansion. "Um…" she began uncertainly, glancing from the girls to Kara, clearly surprised by the girls for some reason.

"Something wrong?" Kara asked, suspecting she knew what was going through the other woman's mind.

"I was told you were bringing two babies," she said, watching the two blonde girls. They were beautiful, Jerrica admitted. Both had shoulder length blonde hair that was a shade or two from platinum, but one wore hers tied in a ponytail and had on jeans and a pink shirt with a cartoon character she didn't recognize on the front. The other had her hair in twin braids and wore green shorts and a yellow top with pink and blue flowers on the front.

"A misunderstanding," Kara shrugged. "I'm Kimber's age, 21, so it's understandable." She had used the time since the audition to research the group and knew its history and the basic stats of the members.

"Oh. I see." Kara could see the woman's mental stumble at the discovery and her decision to set that issue aside and press on. "Well, let's get inside. You're the last one here."

"Didn't mean to hold you up." Kara called to the twins and followed Benton inside, hoping the revelation wouldn't cost her the opportunity. If it did, she decided, then these weren't the people she had hoped they'd be. Whether it was the stigma of having a teenaged mother in the group or concern over her being able to keep her obligations to them, the choice wouldn't be a reasonable one. Kara had juggled her responsibilities to the girls and to others since their birth and had yet to falter.

"Oh, you're not late," she assured Kara with a smile. "Believe me; I know how hard it can be to get little girls organized." She led the way inside with the twins bringing up the rear. The mansion was as beautiful inside as out, and seemed oddly quiet for a group foster home. "Everyone is out back," Jerrica said, noticing Kara's expression.

"Ah, I knew a house full of girls would never be this quiet."

Jerrica chuckled and opened a door leading to an expansive porch, a pool and a huge manicured lawn. There was a table full of food set up to one side. A group of girls ranging in ages from eight to fourteen was scattered about, playing games or talking to prospective drummers. "Girls!" Jerrica called the others over. "This is Kara Mistral and her daughters…"

"Laura and Sarah," Kara provided placing a hand on the head of each girl as she gave their names, then made note of the Starlight Girls' names as Benton introduced them. "Glad to meet you," she told them, looking them over carefully. They all looked happy and healthy, which was a point in Benton's favor. They all seemed at ease with the party and the rhythm of the place seemed strong and steady. Some of the girls invited her twins to toss a Frisbee around with them.

"Come play, mommy?" Sarah asked.

"In a bit, sweetie. I want to meet everyone here first."

"Okay!" The twins rushed off with the Starlight girls.

Kara looked around at the other prospects and the busy caterers. Lindsay Pierce was there as well, she noted. A note of discordance was heard when Kara recognized a drummer with a red and white hairdo standing near the far end of the food table. Jerrica excused herself and went back inside. Nodding absently, she watched Claudia move in on a Hispanic woman with dark pink hair standing near the pool. With a sigh, she moved to intervene. Trust Claudia to disrupt the rhythm wherever she went.

"I've played for Static Moss, the Big Apes, and the Nasties. Who've you played for?" Claudia asked, taking the woman by surprise.

"Uh, I play in my garage," the Hispanic woman admitted.

"What's a crummy amateur like you doin' here? You must be here to make the contest look good!" Claudia smirked triumphantly at the devastated look on the other woman's face.

"Ignore Claudia," Kara advised. "She likes to belittle people she sees as a threat to her." The pink-haired woman looked at her in confusion. "That's pretty much everyone. You wouldn't have been invited if you didn't have a chance at becoming their new drummer."

Claudia turned on her and gave her a nasty look. "Mistral. Shouldn't you be home changing diapers?"

"My girls haven't needed diapers in years," Kara answered. "Since you're here, that must mean your playing has finally risen above the level of a diaper's contents." Before Claudia could respond to that, Jem was between them.

"Okay, that's enough. I told you, skill on the drums is only part of it. If you can't treat other people decently, you don't have a place with us." Claudia stormed off in a huff, and Jem turned to Kara. "Thanks for coming to Reya's defense."

Kara shrugged, relaxing as the discordant element moved away. "Claudia's a bully. Stand up to her, and she'll back down." Turning to Reya, "she wanted to upset the competition, and thought you'd be an easy mark."

"Thank you," Reya smiled. She offered her hand and introduced herself.

"Kara Mistral," they shook hands. They began talking as Jem moved off to talk to the other guests. "Claudia is the only person here I know," Kara said, glancing around at the other five remaining hopefuls.

"I don't know anyone either. The Holograms are nice, though, and so are the foster girls." She motioned to the twins that had joined the group. "Are they yours?"

"Yes. I couldn't find a babysitter, so Jem said to bring them along."

"Their papa couldn't make it?"

Kara shook her head. "No father. He's dead," she offered in order to forestall questions.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Reya offered and dropped the subject. "Let's meet some of the others." They approached a blue-haired man chatting with Aja. "Aja?"

"Hello, Reya. Glad you could make it, Kara." She turned to her friend. "This is Craig Philips, one of the other semi-finalists," she told them. "Craig, this is Reya Alonzo and Kara Mistral."

"Nice to meet you both," he offered with an easy smile. They began comparing notes about their musical experience and how they had gotten involved in the talent search. "So," Craig offered after a time, "sounds like we each jumped the line."

"Apparently," Kara agreed. "What about the others here?" She glanced about and saw four candidates remaining, as Claudia had left. One was a painfully skinny woman limp brown hair. She was picking at a plate of food that contained one chicken leg and a bit of salad. Another was a blond woman who looked to be in her early 30's. She was playing checkers with one of the older foster girls. The others were a brunette who looked rather uncomfortable with the large group and a blond man who looked like a male model and acted as if he were too good to be there.

"They waited in line like everyone else," Craig confirmed Kara's hunch. "I heard Melanie, the skinny one, saying that it was more than worth the wait for this chance." He nodded to the blond. "That's Sally. She's got talent, but like Reya, has never played in a professional band. The others… I don't know much about them. Kelly and Alec are both professional musicians with good experience, but they don't seem very sociable."

"I don't know them," Kara shrugged, "and haven't heard them play."

"Me neither," Craig said. "I just arrived from Europe. I came mostly to visit my sister." Reya just shook her head and looked toward the girls playing in the yard. "It's quite a set up they have here," he noted. "Mansion, pool, cars and such."

Kara nodded. "Better than the group home I was raised in," she commented.

"You were in a state orphanage?" Craig looked surprised.

"Yes. Not nearly as nice as this place. Same story, though, kids without living relatives." Kara frowned as an unpleasant memory began to surface, and she shoved it away. Craig started to ask a question, but Kara saw Laura waving to her. She felt a smile spread across her face and went to join the game.

ROCKNROLLROCKNROLLROCKNROLL

Some 30 minutes later, Kara and the girls headed for the table for some food. She was sweating lightly and smiling as she squeezed Sarah's shoulder while asking her not to run. "Food's not going anywhere," she told the girls. "Just relax."

They filled their plates and settled to eat while talking to the band and the other hopefuls about inconsequential things. Sarah finished first and went to whisper to Chrissie, one of Starlight girls. Chrissie looked a bit puzzled but went inside. She came back a moment later with a two drum sticks and gave them to Sarah.

"So what's this about?" Chrissie asked.

"Watch," Sarah told her. She trotted up to Kara. "Mommy? Will you do that thing?"

Kara considered a moment and then smiled, taking the sticks. "Okay." She walked toward the table, spinning the sticks as she walked. On reaching the table, she beat out a quick rhythm on the table, then on the metal leg, then again on the metal warming dish. After a moment's consideration, she began tapping out a complex rhythm using all three. Everyone gathered around to watch and listen. Sarah and Laura would bring her new objects every few minutes, including a stack of paper plates, a soccer ball, and the Frisbee they had been playing with earlier. Each produced a different sound and she would work each into the impromptu performance.

Jem and the others were near the front of the group, and Kara could hear them, even though she was focused on her drumming. "That's quite an act," Kimber laughed.

"She's got a flare for performing, that's for sure," Jem agreed. "We're not the only ones who think so." The Starlight girls, along with the twins, were clapping and cheering her on.

"You don't think she's a bit of a show-off?" Aja asked.

"Actually," Sally offered, moving to stand beside them. "Her daughter asked her to play. This isn't sneaking in a second audition." She smiled fondly at the girls. "I wish my son, Tony, was that supportive. He always puts on headphones when my friends and I practice at home." Kara tuned the rest out till she finished.

She received a standing ovation for her efforts and a hug from her girls. "Very impressive," Jem smiled. "How did you come up with that?"

"I've been doing that for years," Kara shrugged. "The right rhythm helps me clear my mind and concentrate. That probably sounds strange, but whenever I've needed to focus on a problem, I start tapping out a rhythm." She glanced at her daughters. "It's just a game for them. They'll bring me different things to work with some appropriate, some not. Some of the things they expect me to use are pretty silly." She cast an exasperated look at the twins. "Jell-O does not make a good drum." The two burst out laughing.

"But it was funny," Sarah gasped out.

"Jell-O?" Jem asked with a smile.

"Sarah slid a plate of jell onto the table I was using when I looked away. It's not as funny as they make it sound. I didn't make them clean it up." Several of the Starlight girls started laughing at this.

Kara fielded other questions and traded stories with the other drummers for another hour or so before the party started to break up. She had gotten one question during the party from Kimber that gave her pause. Before she left, she asked to speak to Jerrica Benton.

They met in her private office while the twins were given a tour of the mansion. "What did you want to discuss with me?" Jerrica asked as she settled behind her desk. "I can't tell you your standing in the talent search."

"I know. There are a couple of things, though, that I thought you should know. You see," she continued at Jerrica's curious look. "I have a few limitations when it comes to performing."

"If you're worried about your girls when the band is on tour, don't be. I thought they might be able to stay here with the Starlight girls. It would save you time, effort, and expense in finding a long-term babysitter and we have plenty of room."

"Thank you," Kara nodded her gratitude. "That was my biggest worry. I've always managed in that respect, though. I have friends I can call on if need be and several regular sitters, but it wouldn't be fair to the girls to ask them to move every few days which is what it might have come to."

"Sounds like a logistical nightmare, on top of being hard on the twins," Jerrica agreed. "If you're chosen, it won't be a concern. Was there something else?"

"Yes. Some of my limitations involve… hair and clothing." At Jerrica's confused look, she pushed on. "Kimber asked me earlier, why I wear my hair like this." She gestured to her thick, jet black hair and the way it was arranged to hide nearly a quarter of her face, completely covering her right eye.

"I was curious about that myself," the group's manager admitted, having wondered why anyone would limit their vision over a fashion statement. "You told Kimber that your right eye doesn't work?"

"A partial answer," Kara admitted. "It's a long ugly story that I don't like to tell, but let's just say I did something stupid." She drew her hair back, repositioning the long braid that normally rested on her right shoulder behind her back. Jerrica gasped.

"My God! What did that?" She stared at the jagged scars that crossed the socket where Kara's right eye had once been, the worst hidden by a patch.

"A broken bottle," Kara answered simply. "I…tried to help someone, and they reacted badly. I'll tell you the story if you wish, but I'd prefer to tell it only once. It isn't something I like to talk about."

"I can believe that," Jerrica answered. "Um…you said hair and clothes?"

Kara nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "I have another scar, but I'm not showing you that." She hated talking about it, but felt she had to be up front. "It's in a place that I don't normally display in public, but it still affects my wardrobe." At Jerrica's questioning look, she placed an index finger high on her chest, just below her collarbone, and drew a line to a point roughly midway down her left breast.

"Surgical scar?" Jerrica asked, sounding hopeful.

"Hunting knife." At the older woman's shaken expression Kara repressed a sigh. "Another long story. I was mugged while taking a shortcut home through the park at night. Stupid, I know, but I'd done it plenty of times with no problem. That time, a man hit me from behind, hoping to keep me from seeing him. He didn't do a good enough job, though, and I saw his face. He tried to kill me."

"What happened?" Jerrica asked.

"I got lucky," Kara shrugged.

"Sounds like it," Jerrica breathed out. "Well… after hearing you play, we still want you in the competition. These…limitations are things that can be worked around so they won't really be an issue. I'm glad you told me, though." Kara nodded and rearranged her hair quickly with the ease of long practice. "Sounds like you've had an eventful life. I won't press for details," she added. "If you win, you can tell the group when and if you feel like it."

"Thank you," Kara nodded. "I'd best get the girls home. They're worn out."

Jerrica nodded and Kara went to find her daughters.


	4. An Offer is Made

CH. 4 AN OFFER IS MADE

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I don't have an internet connection of my own at the moment.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara received word two days later that she had made the cut along with Craig and Reya. She shared the news with the girls over a dinner of bologna sandwiches. "'I know you can do it, mommy!" Laura said confidently. "You're the bestest!"

"Thank you, sweetie. I'll give it my all. They're going to have a special concert where the three of us will compete and the audience will choose the new drummer." The conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Kara moved to the counter where it rested and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Kara Mistral?"

"Yes."

"My name is Eric Raymond, head of Misfits Music. I was hoping I could talk to you about your future prospects."

"Oh?" She had heard of the man and the band the company was named for and had listened to some of their music. Pizzazz, Roxy, and Stormer, as they billed themselves, had talent and a reputation as the 'bad girls' of rock and roll. According to some of the stories she'd heard, substantiated somewhat by a few items in the scandal sheets, it was a well-earned reputation.

"Yes. This talent search Starlight music is holding has unearthed some promising talent, and you're by far the best they've found so far. I was rather hoping we could meet for lunch tomorrow and discuss your musical career." Now the call made sense.

"Letting them do the hard work and handpicking from the finalists?" Kara asked dryly.

Raymond chuckled. "More or less. It may sound a bit questionable, but-"

"Its business," Kara answered with a shrug. Who was she to question how someone else made a living? "Everyone looks out for themselves."

"Very true. Can I treat you to lunch at the Red Rock tomorrow? Let's say 11:30?"

"I can be there. See you then." Raymond assured her that he was looking forward to it and hung up. Kara frowned slightly. Jane had told her stories of Raymond's business dealings and knew she should be wary but wasn't sure how much to believe. The Holograms had added some stories of their own. If half of it was true, the man would have already been serving a very long prison term. _Could be competition 'poisoning the well,'_ she thought, _but stories like that don't get started without some basis. A couple of them were outright slanderous_. She decided to meet Raymond and judge for herself. Putting it out of her mind for the time, she tried to focus on the comforting rhythm her daughters' happy chatter created.

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The Red Rock was an upscale, trendy eatery a block off Hollywood Blvd., the kind of place people went to be seen. Kara would have avoided the place even if she had the money to waste on their absurdly priced food. Arriving shortly after 11:30, she asked for Eric Raymond at the door and was directed to a table where the man himself sat waiting. The waiter sniffed aloofly over her jeans and simple blouse, but Kara ignored him and focused on the man across from the table.

"I'm glad you could make it, Kara," the man smiled. His tone reminded her of a used car salesman, hoping to make a sale, and it put her on alert. The stories about him and about the musical group he managed were too wild to be true, she reminded herself, at least completely true.

"Hope I'm not too late. Unfortunately, I work to others' schedules."

"We all do to a degree," he gave her a condescending smile. "I recommend the snapper, personally. They also do a very nice New York Strip." Kara glanced at the menu briefly and made her selection. Once the waiter had come and gone, she focused on Raymond as he started to speak. "I saw you play a few nights ago for March Rain. The band is a dead end. They'll earn you occasional pocket money playing company parties and social events, but they'll never make it big."

"I know. I'm surprised you bothered to go. You don't usually see big name record producers at the Night Owl." The place was kind of a dive, and Kara never went there without her knife.

"I'm always on the lookout for fresh talent," he shrugged, "and it can turn up in the most unlikely places. The band may be only small time, but you, Kara, have potential to be much more. With the right backing, in the right group, you could be huge."

Kara didn't respond to the flattery, but waited for him to get to the point. Despite what appeared to be his best efforts, he was coming off as a bit slimy. A rhythm like the soundtrack to a movie villain's entrance played faintly in her head.

"I've looked into your background," he pressed on. "You've had an interesting musical career. A member of several short-lived bands, none with any real potential that I can see. The last one..." He shook his head, remembering that the story had actually made the news and one of the gossip shows.

"Imploded?" Kara offered.

"Rather spectacularly," Raymond agreed. Displaying what seemed like genuine curiosity, he asked her about the band's break-up, and Kara told him what she knew of the love triangle that had developed between the lead guitarist, the keyboardist, and the sax player. Raymond shook his head in amazement that also didn't seem feigned. "And that's why people shouldn't date co-workers," he muttered.

"I have to agree with you there," Kara admitted, just as the food was arriving. They ate for a time in silence, enjoying the meal, before Raymond got back to business.

"Since then, you've been filling in for other drummers and working a dead-end delivery job just to make ends meet. I'd like to offer you a contract with Misfits Music. I can put together a band of truly talented people with whom you'll fit in marvelously. I built the Misfits from the ground up and you see how well they've done."

"True," Kara answered. The Misfits were a huge success, and she had to admit that Pizzazz, Roxy, and Stormer had a great sound. She wondered how the addition of a saxophone with the British woman, Jetta, would affect the mix. They were also, however, rivals of Jem and the Holograms. More than rivals, actually; the words 'bitter enemies' came to mind. "I've heard of the rivalry between the groups. It's hard not to. What's behind that? It seems like more than just professional rivalry."

"They don't like each other," Raymond said with a shrug, "and I've had… unhappy dealings with the head of Starlight Music. Which brings up a negotiating point."

"Yes?"

"Despite your talent, your history with bands hasn't been all that great. I know they told you that the audience will determine who the next drummer will be, but that's nothing more than publicity. You've shown me you have an understanding of business. I'm sure you can see this 'battle of the drums' for what it is."

Kara knew Raymond was making sense. Leaving a major decision like that up to their fans was great PR, but potentially disastrous for the band. Kara admitted it seemed like a bad business decision, even though her instincts told her he was leading up to something unpleasant.

"Craig Philips has a much longer track record with successful bands. He's almost certain to be their choice. That isn't to say you don't have a chance, but it's best to hedge your bets. Good business."

Kara nodded. Untrustworthy or not, the man made a valid point, and Kara didn't keep a roof over her girls' heads by relying on hope and luck. "What's the 'negotiating point'?"

"You're in a position to get something for me I've been wanting for a while now. I think you can find out who Jem really is. Get me her real name and that contract with Misfits Music is all yours."

"All this just to get a publicity edge?" Kara was incredulous. "It really is personal." Raymond shrugged and gave what he probably thought was a self-deprecating smile.

"That's my offer. Do my motives really matter?"

"I suppose not," Kara allowed. "I don't like prying into other people's private affairs, though." She paused for a moment. "I'll consider it."

"That's all I can ask."

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After the meeting, Kara made another delivery to the law firm of Franklin & Hauser and then made a side trip to Starlight Music. Jerrica Benton was in her office and agreed to speak to Kara for a moment. She was ushered in by the woman's secretary and found Benton meeting with the Holograms' keyboardist. After a moment, she remembered that the two were sisters. "What do you need Kara?"

"I was wondering why Eric Raymond is so determined to find out who Jem is that he is offering lucrative contracts in exchange for the information."

Jerrica stared at her in shock for a moment. Kimber began sputtering indignantly, but settled for calling the man names under her breath when Jerrica answered. "You're serious?" Kara nodded. "If he spoke to you, he probably spoke to Reya and Craig, too." She sat in silence for a moment, thinking furiously. "It's personal for him," she said finally. "I fired him when I inherited the company and took over. I can't prove it, but I know he was embezzling. He's had it in for me and everyone associated with me ever since."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Kara said carefully, wondering if she should say anything at all, "but this vendetta of Raymond's shouldn't be my problem or Reya's or Craig's."

"I agree," Jerrica nodded, "but there isn't much I can do about his behavior. He's committed crimes in the past against us, even kidnapping one of my foster girls, but he always manages to wiggle his way out of trouble." She looked at the younger woman sadly. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. If you want to withdraw, I'll understand."

"No." Kara said decisively. "I'm going to keep going, and give it all I have. I just wanted you to know what Raymond is doing. This is as much for my girls as it is for me, and I've never backed away from a fight."

"I'm glad to hear that." She looked uncertain for a moment, as if unsure she should proceed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"At the party, you mentioned to Craig that you were in the foster care system, and you were never adopted."

"That's right."

"You were….14? When you got pregnant?" Kimber left off her name-calling and paid attention. Evidently, Jerrica wasn't the only one who was curious.

"Yes." Kara wasn't sure what information Benton was after, but saw no harm in answering.

"How? How did you hang onto the girls? I would have thought the state would have tried to put them up for adoption."

Kara thought carefully before answering. Benton wouldn't understand the full truth. No one had. So, she settled for a straightforward, if partial answer, framing her response in a way she hoped would make sense to the other woman. "I barely know," she finally admitted. "I've spent the last few years in constant motion. Rarely sleeping, barely eating, just doing everything I could to keep them healthy, happy, and with me. Everything I do is toward that goal. Please don't ask me why. I've seen your girls and how you look after them. If it isn't already clear to you, I can't explain it."

Jerrica smiled. "No need. I know the why; I'm just amazed you managed it."

Kara allowed herself a rueful smile. "Join the club."


	5. Negotiating Tactics

CH. 5 NEGOTIATING TACTICS

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I don't have an internet connection of my own at the moment.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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The Mistral family lived in a poor and somewhat dangerous neighborhood, but it was the best Kara could afford. The people there were working class and mostly honest, hard-working families just trying to get by. Kara liked the rhythm of the place and the people, despite the discordant elements in the neighborhood.

The apartment itself consisted of a large main room that included the kitchen area, two bedrooms and a bathroom. The furniture salvaged from garage sales and thrift stores was, like the apartment itself, worn but clean and well cared for. The entire space, save for the bathroom and kitchen area featured brown carpet that was ideal for concealing stains. A four place dining table with mismatched chairs sat just beyond the tiled area that marked the kitchen. At 6:30 that evening, the three of them sat down to eat.

Dinner at the Mistral's apartment was subdued that night. The girls happily told their mother about their day at the park with their current babysitter and some kids they'd met there. Kara smiled and nodded, asking questions now and then, but she was distracted and the girls noticed. She told them not to worry and encouraged them to tell her about the games they had played.

Raymond's offer and Benton's confirmation of some of what she had heard of the man worried Kara. He wasn't the sort to take no for an answer. It didn't do any good to worry excessively, but she determined to take extra precautions for herself and the girls for a while.

When dinner was finished, Kara drilled the two over the alphabet and basic word recognition. She couldn't give them the best of everything, but she was determined to give them every advantage that she could.

After an hour of lessons, they watched TV till 9:00 when Laura and Sarah were sent off to bed. Kara had mostly set aside her worries over Raymond. Spending time with the girls always had that effect on her, but she had not entirely dismissed the chance of trouble from that quarter and double-checked her usual precautions.

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"Mommeeee!" Kara was out of bed, armed, and out into the living room of her small apartment before she was fully awake.

"Shut that kid up!" she heard a voice near the front door hiss. "She'll wake the whole building!" There were two flashlights in the room, pinpointing the intruders. One of the lights was pointed at Laura, giving the cartoon duck on the front of her nightshirt an oddly menacing appearance. The girl stood frozen, too scared to move, as the man with the flashlight reached out and grabbed her by the collar. With the interwoven rhythms of fear and rage pounding through her, Kara acted without hesitation.

A second after laying hands on Laura, the man fell back, screaming hoarsely. Kara brought her home security system, the bat she'd used to shatter his arm, upward, catching him just under the ribcage. He went down and stayed down. "Get to your room and lock the door," Kara told Laura as she went for the other man, the Louisville Slugger already drawing back.

The man let out a terrified expletive and tried to back out of range while fumbling for something at his belt. The bat didn't connect solidly, but it did clip his jaw, which was enough. He went down, and whatever he'd been reaching for hit the floor and slid under the dining table.

Seeing the intruders down and in no condition to threaten her, she moved to the lamps and switched them on. Both men were conscious and probably wishing they weren't. The one with the broken arm and ribs was lying very still and trying to keep his breathing shallow to avoid aggravating his injuries. The one she had hit in the jaw was whimpering and starting to try to crawl away. Kara stepped on one of his ankles even as she reached for the phone. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked, momentarily putting all her weight on that foot and causing a gurgling yelp.

She dialed 911 and explained the situation to the operator who assured her that police and an ambulance would be there soon. When she hung up, her own rhythm settling into something calmer even as the undertone of anger became more pronounced, she went to the one who could still talk, positioning herself so she could watch the other as well. "I didn't tell them how badly I'd hurt you. There's room for worse before they arrive." The man looked scared. "Why break in here? This building's people are dirt poor and my apartment isn't the easiest one to get to. Explain why you chose this building and this apartment."

"We wasn't gonna hurt no one," he stammered. "We was hired to scare ya, just take a few things, bust up the place a bit."

"Why?"

"Don't know why. Dude just said we'd get paid for scarin' ya." Kara tapped his right knee with the bat. "I promise! I don't know!"

"Who hired you?" She thought she knew, but wanted confirmation.

"Raymond! Dude's name is Eric Raymond, some big business type."

"When did he hire you?"

"Just this afternoon. Gave us the address and said to do it tonight."

"Thank you," Kara told him. "That was very helpful. I'm sure you'll be just as helpful to the police when they get here." She noticed the other trying to get to his feet. A kick to the gut put him down again. When his head hit the floor, it jarred his broken jaw and he began crying openly from the pain.

It was only a few minutes later that there came a pounding on the door. "Police! You called about a break in."

Kara checked the peephole and on seeing the uniformed officers, opened the door and pointed them toward the two men. One of the cops eyed her warily. Kara remembered that her scars were in full view thanks to the hour and the ratty bathrobe she had taken a moment to grab from her bedroom. She had taken no time to fix her hair and the bathrobe had seen better days. "Put down the bat," he told her, his personal rhythm showing tension and fear. "You won't be needing it." His hand hovered near his gun as if fearing that she might take a swing at him. Kara set the bat aside and remembered the object under the table.

"I knocked something away from that one. It's under the table." She gestured at the man with the broken jaw and then the mismatched dinette set. One officer went to check as the paramedics arrived and began looking over the would-be robbers.

"We've got a gun," the officer under the table called. He emerged with an evidence bag containing a cheap pistol. Kara stiffened angrily and clenched her fists. They had brought a gun into her home where her daughters slept. She felt a strong urge to give them each a couple more taps with her bat.

"Ma'am," the other officer approached her and stopped when he saw the look on her scarred face. "Um… we're going to need you to come downtown and make a formal complaint."

"Of course. I'll need to call someone to watch my girls. I-"

"If they saw anything ma'am, we'll need to talk to them too."

Kara wasn't thrilled on hearing this. "They're six," she told him, "and only Laura saw them, in a dark room for a few seconds. I'll need some time."

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The building housing Misfits Music was every bit as modern as the one owned by Starlight Music. Kara ignored the glass and steel and the large atrium with its impressive décor and headed for the directory near the elevators, quickly finding that Raymond's office was on the fifth floor. She rode up alone, which suited her. The cold fury on her face would have put anyone with her on edge. Confronting Raymond might not be the smartest thing she'd ever done, in fact she knew it was a mistake, but at the moment, she really didn't care. She was too angry.

She emerged from the elevator to the sound of raised voices. She recognized Raymond and, to her surprise, Reya.

"You wrecked my father's greenhouse!?" Kara paused just around the corner from the office. The door was open, and she could clearly hear every word. "To think I ever considered betraying anyone as good and kind as Jem to a… a pack of jackals like you!" Kara retreated a bit as the irate Hispanic woman stormed out. She started to leave the spot where she'd concealed herself, but was interrupted by Craig.

The other hopeful had some interesting things to say to Raymond and the Misfits about his sister, Stormer. _His sister is part of the Misfits? _ _Is Reya the only one trying out that isn't hiding something?_ Kara wondered. When Craig left, pausing to reassure his late-arriving sister, Kara came around the corner, stalking purposefully toward Raymond who was muttering something about how the day couldn't get worse

Pizzazz saw her first. "Wanna bet? Geeze, Eric, you've been busy." Raymond turned around, confused by her comment, until he saw Kara.

"Ladies, could I have a moment alone with your manager? I don't want any witnesses." The women looked at her with a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and in the case of Pizzazz, amusement. Kara noted that someone, probably Craig, had twisted a desk lamp around Raymond's neck. "Nice tie," she commented as she grabbed it and yanked him into his office, shutting the door behind her.

"Aack!" Raymond stumbled toward his desk. Kara could hear the Misfits laughing beyond the closed door.

"Sit," she told him, as he moved to take his place behind the desk, trying to regain some dignity, hard to do since he couldn't remove the lamp. "Last night, two men working for you broke into my apartment and threatened my daughter." Raymond paled slightly and he started to stammer a denial. "Shut up," she snarled, cutting him off. "I'm not the police and I don't care what can and can't be proven in court." She put her hands on the desk and shoved, driving him back against his office's floor to ceiling window. His normally steady, confident rhythm faltered, became quick and stumbling.

"P-please! You've be-"

"Shut it! You've made this idiotic vendetta of yours my problem now, and you have to deal with the consequences. I don't really care what legal wrangling you do with Starlight Music or what stupidity you commit in a board room." She took a calming breath. "You sent a man with a gun into my home. Threatened my children!" Raymond blanched at that, and Kara realized that he probably hadn't known about the gun, not that that mattered. "If you do anything, ANYTHING, that puts my family at risk again, if you so much as glance in the direction of my girls, I'll come visit you with the Louisville Slugger I used on your thugs last night, and you will ENVY them, understood?"

Eric glanced over his shoulder as she gave an extra shove. Had he heard something start to give? He glanced back at her.

"Understood?" Another little shove. He was almost certain he heard a crack from the window's casement. He nodded frantically. "Good." She released the desk. "Good meeting. I think we accomplished a lot here." She turned and walked out the door, pleased that she'd resisted the temptation to draw the knife she carried in her pocket. That, she thought, might have been overkill. _Gotta stop carrying that,_ she reminded herself._ At least when I'm around the band or the press_.

The Misfits, who had apparently listened at the door, stepped back hurriedly. "Sorry ladies, looks like you'll need a new manager." The four women stared after her for a moment as Kara walked calmly toward the elevator without a backwards glance, before racing into the office to see if Raymond was still alive.


	6. Finals

CH. 6 FINALS

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I don't have an internet connection of my own at the moment. Reviews are not only welcome they are encouraged. Come on people! How'm I doing?

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Eric missed the battle of the drums. He was in meetings all day with his attorney, trying to figure out how to stay out of jail. The police had found his hired goons to be very cooperative. He had, she learned, sent an anonymous note and an envelope full of cash to Reya's father. Kara suspected he was just trying to prevent additional charges.

While she was aware of these situations, Kara had different concerns. The competition was down to her and Reya. Craig had spoken privately to Aja after Kara had spoken to him about his sister. She hadn't pressured him in any way, but simply let him know that she was aware and that the situation wasn't fair to Aja or to him.

The two had feeling for each other, and Kara knew that the kind of secret Craig was keeping could cause problems for them down the road. "I'm not telling them anything about it," she had said to Craig. "Blackmail is Raymond's style, not mine. I think you should tell Aja, though. You keep dating her, she'll find out eventually, and how will she feel?" Craig had agreed and spoken to Aja in private the same day.

Kara was surprised when Craig withdrew, and hoped he hadn't believed she was trying to push him out of the competition. He had left for Europe by the time she found out, so she couldn't ask him. All the group would say was that he had withdrawn for personal reasons and what he considered a conflict of interest. Aja had looked miserable, but hadn't said anything about Craig's reasons. Kara wondered if the rest of the band knew.

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The concert was chaotic. The fans were cheering wildly and the backstage area was home to several near disasters, but Kara knew enough of such productions to know that this was normal. She did find it strange that the band's manager was nowhere to be found. Kimber just shrugged when she was asked.

"For a concert like this, Jerrica's got a hundred things to do; so she doesn't stand still a lot. She might make the after party."

Jem and the Holograms played a song specially written for the occasion, and Kara and Reya took turns playing, showcasing their talents. It was, as Kara had known it would be, great publicity. Despite the fact that the audience's reaction was impossible to judge, she hoped Raymond had been wrong about the way the new drummer would be chosen.

For the duration, she put that out of her mind and concentrated on giving a great performance. Reya matched her beat for beat, and she suspected that even if she'd been able to observe the contest objectively, it would have still been too close to call. In the end, the votes were tallied just as Starlight Music had promised and Kara won the competition by a slim margin.

"Congratulations," Reya said, giving her a hug, when they got the news. The band and the two finalists were waiting in a private room at the theater where the concert was held. "I know you'll do great things, here."

"Thank you, Reya," Kara returned the hug awkwardly, not used to receiving such gestures from anyone but her girls. "I have something for you."

"Oh?" The Holograms took notice as well.

"I've been filling in for a drummer with a band called March Rain. He has legal problems."

"Legal problems?" Reya asked, confused.

"Three DWI's in under a year. Judge gave him six months to dry out. He was due out the first of next month, but I heard from the band that he punched a guard at the jail."

The band members and Reya gave a collective wince. "He's going to be there a while, and they need a replacement. I'll let you judge the band's music for yourself, but at the very least you'll get to play professionally. Interested?"

"Of course," Reya smiled. "I'd love to meet them."

"Then I'll arrange it," Kara promised. The others looked pleased with her offer and the group moved out on stage for a few publicity shots.

After a few minutes, Jem excused herself to go speak to Jerrica. She slipped behind the curtains, just as one of the reporters suggested opening the curtains to get some pictures with the set. Reya, who'd been fielding a few questions of her own, looked startled and slipped through the curtains. When they parted, Reya was holding a startled looking Jem's wrist and suggesting she look somewhere else. Jem had thanked her and left hurriedly. Kara wondered over the odd exchange, but decided that it was none of her business. She turned her attention back to the reporters.

The few questions that Kara had to field took time, but they eventually got away and returned to Starlight Mansion where the twins were spending time with the Starlight girls while the housekeeper, Mrs. Bailey, watched over them. Jem had left on her own. Though she had a room at Starlight Mansion, Kimber said, the lead singer had her own place. One she was rather secretive about, apparently.

It was late by the time they got back, so the band invited them to stay the night, which the twins really enjoyed. They began their first practice together bright and early the next morning, establishing a new rhythm for the group, but they had barely gotten through one song when a friend of the band, Anthony Julian, arrived.

"Anthony, hello," Jem greeted him warmly. They exchanged pleasantries before Jem got what she and the others were wondering. "Is Cheyna with you? How's she doing?"

"Cheyna quit the show. She wants to come back, but she's afraid you won't accept her, said you practically pushed her out the door."

"We thought it was what she wanted," Kimber protested.

"We love Cheyna," Jem insisted. "Of course we want her back."

Julian smiled. "I told you," he called over his shoulder. Cheyna, who had been waiting out of sight, came into the room and was soon the center of a group hug.

Kara watched this impassively, while quickly reviewing her options. March Rain had a new permanent drummer in Reya. Tangerine Sunrise' drummer was on the mend after his accident and would be back before the week was out. She had effectively burned any bridge that might lead to Misfits Music, though that was hardly a loss.

She was still considering her options when the group hug broke and Kimber took Cheyna by the hand. "Come meet Kara."

Setting down the drumsticks, Kara shook hands with the Holograms' returning drummer. "A pleasure," she said woodenly, before glancing at the others. "I should collect the girls. We'll be-"

"Why?" Kimber asked. "We're just starting to rehearse."

Kara blinked at her in confusion. Then looked at Cheyna. The purple-haired woman shook her head. "We'll still want you on drums. After all, with you here, I can play my guitar."

Kara repressed a sigh of relief and merely nodded. "Shall we start, then?"


	7. Backstory

CH. 7 BACKSTORY

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I don't have an internet connection of my own at the moment. I decided to post two chapters this time as chapter 6 was short and sort of unsatisfying. It needed to be written, but now I can move on to more interesting chapters story. Reviews are encouraged.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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The gentle rhythm she established set the tone for the tune and the others joined in just as they had rehearsed. It had taken time and effort to get the timing just right, but when it came together the sound was nothing short of amazing. That was what the critics said about the new song anyway. When asked, Kara had merely said she was satisfied with the results of their work.

She tended to be reserved when talking to the Holograms' friends and associates, and kept her answers to the questions the press directed to her brief without being deliberately rude. The other band members took up the slack in that regard, elaborating when Kara chose not to. The outing to Venice Beach was the first time she had been deliberately buttonholed by a reporter while alone.

Lindsay Pierce, the host of one of the most popular music video shows on the air, found the Holograms' new drummer sitting apart from everyone else, watching the crowd and beating out a rhythm on a piece of driftwood in front of her. The music video show hostess motioned for her cameraman to follow, and approached her. She saw that the younger woman's attention seemed to be focused inward rather than on the scene on the beach. It took her two tries to get Kara's attention.

"Are you practicing or meditating?" Lindsay asked with a smile.

Kara paused and considered the question for a moment. She had simply been soaking up the rhythm of the place, enjoying the ebb and flow of the people and their personal beats. The drumming had been almost unconscious. "Both," she finally answered. Lindsay wasn't expecting that, but gamely pressed on with a few questions. She was nice enough and kept things casual, but her first serious question regarded Kara's apparent shyness.

After a moment's thought, Kara said, "I'm not shy, but I tend to be reserved when dealing directly with people. Performing on stage is one thing, but interviews are another. I try to think about what to say ahead of time. I feel certain that if I spoke my mind unreservedly, especially on camera, the other Holograms would be prying my foot out of my mouth before the interview was over."

Lindsay chuckled at the honest and 'well thought out' answer. "I understand you're going to be on the Harriet Horne show tonight. Nervous?"

"Not really," Kara answered after considering the question. "Should I be?"

"Hmm. Not really," she answered after a moment. Kara nodded, deciding that Lindsay didn't want to say anything negative about her colleague. She decided it would not make a good impression to press her, especially on camera. Horne, Kara knew, had a reputation for gossip and stirring up scandal. There was nothing in Kara's past she was ashamed of, but there were things she preferred to keep to herself. It occurred to her that she might want to tell something of those stories to Jem and the others just in case Horne had some inkling of those secrets.

"Excuse me. I need to speak to Kimber about something." She got up and went looking for the keyboardist. While not the best choice, Kimber had her own unique perspective on fame and the press.

Kara arrived at the place she'd last seen Kimber in time to see her rush off with Sean Harrison, the British rock star. She was about to follow when she noticed Jetta. The Misfits' new sax player was kneeling on the opposite side of the bushes near where Kimber had been sitting. Two steps brought her into position to see Jetta's hand starting to close on Kimber's diary. Another brought her foot down on that hand.

"Ow! Geroff!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kara said, not shifting her weight. "I didn't see you there, taking something that isn't yours."

"Get off, you crazy Yank!"

Kara shifted her weight and Jetta snatched her hand back, minus the diary. She stood and glared at Kara before retreating, holding her aching hand. Stooping to retrieve the diary, Kara followed the, occasionally flighty, redhead to where she and Sean were setting up to play. She handed the diary to Kimber. "You might want to keep a closer eye on this. I had to stop Jetta from taking it."

"T-thanks. I hate to think what she'd do with it." She tucked it away in her bag and resumed setting up. It looked as if Kara was going to have to wait. It might be best to speak to the group as a whole anyway.

Despite the discord the Misfits caused, the day went smoothly, and Kara found some time alone with the rest of the band two hours before the interview with Horne. They settled in a private room to talk, the others were curious, but Jem seemed to have an idea about what concerned the new drummer. "Horne's reputation as a scandal monger is played up, Kara. She does love a juicy story, but she's not that bad."

"Perhaps, but I still don't want you blindsided if she brings up the stories about my scars."

"Jerrica mentioned that," Cheyna spoke up, looking more interested. "Something about wardrobe limitations?"

"And why would scars cause any kind of a scandal?" Kimber broke in; then frowned. "And come to that, why do you still have them? I mean there are doctors that can fix that, right?"

Jem shot Kimber a look over the blunt question, but didn't interrupt.

"With what money?" Kara asked, not offended. "I grew up in an orphanage. "I didn't have the cash, and state agencies, especially Welfare and Child Services, are always strapped. I got treatment from the finest vet they were willing to pay for. As for why it might cause problems now? It has to do with how I got them and the trouble I had because of them." She took a moment to steel herself for the explanation. "Understand that I've done nothing I'm ashamed of, but everyone has some part of their lives they don't want on public display." She looked steadily at the lead singer as she said this, then reached up and pulled her hair back, revealing her scars and the patch she wore. "I got this when I was twelve."

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NINE YEAR AGO

The rain would have been a welcome relief after almost two months without it. Would have been; if Kara weren't walking home in it. Jimmy had been his usual charming self that evening and barely spoken to her beyond giving instructions. Sweep and mop the floors. Clean the bathroom. Don't touch the stock, you'd probably break something.

As part time jobs went, it wasn't the worst, but she really didn't like Jimmy. He paid her $1.50 an hour to do the work he was supposed to be doing and being paid $7.00 an hour for. It wasn't a lot of money, but all added up, and as soon as the bank opened tomorrow morning she'd be making a deposit.

She'd learned by watching the other kids at the orphanage. Those that worked hard and saved every penny had a chance when they were booted out at 18. Those that didn't… She had seen a picture of Sheila, a girl who'd turned 18 about a year ago. It was in a magazine one of the boys had taken from the hidden stash in Mr. Berney's office and one of the older girls had discovered. Sheila had been nude and posing with three guys. Kara shuddered at the memory and swore that that would not be her on her 18th birthday.

Saving wasn't easy, though. She had also learned the hard way that anything of value had to be kept on her or well hidden, especially money. Kelly, a 14-year-old black girl who had also sworn not to wind up posing for a Playboy knock-off, had taken her to a bank she knew that allowed kids to open their own accounts, with the approval of a guardian. Fortunately, Mr. Berney's supervisor, Mrs. Reid, signed permission forms for any of the orphanage's residents that wanted to open an account. She received and forwarded the statements to the kids and was well liked for doing so.

Had Mr. Berney been monitoring the accounts, Kara wouldn't have done it, certain that any money she deposited would go straight into the man's booze fund. The thought of Mr. Berney caused her to pause at the front door. She couldn't hear anything from inside, and it wasn't 9:00 yet. Even the younger kids should still be up. That told her what to expect, when she opened the door. With the exception of Jack Berney, all of the full time residents would be in their rooms. Kara wondered briefly if the man would avoid himself if it were possible. She braced herself for what she'd find and went in.

The front door opened into a small foyer. The hallway directly ahead led to a staircase. A common room for study, games, etc. the laundry room and another short hall to the backdoor were to the left at the bottom of the staircase. Directly to her right was the living room and beyond that, the kitchen and dining room. Jack Berney was in his favorite arm chair, facing away from her, thankfully.

Judging by the noises he was making, incoherent muttering, she should have no trouble sneaking by him. She noticed the empty bottles on the floor and the broken glass near it, so he was probably on his fourth or fifth bottle of whatever poison he was ingesting that night. She was about to move on when Berney flung his arms wide, and said in a louder, more distinct, but still slurred voice, "I'm better than this! Stupid brats!"

She had heard worse from him, but that was not what stopped her. In his right hand, was a broken bottle. The end of it had apparently broken on the tile floor, leaving Berney waving a jagged, potentially deadly weapon. He was waving it around without a care and she decided to be extra quiet in her retreat. Then he did something that she wouldn't have believed if she hadn't seen it. He moved the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back. When he didn't get any alcohol he grumbled loudly about 'another empty' and let the bottle dangle down over the armrest.

Kara simply stared in disbelief. Was it possible for someone to get that drunk? Berney continued to grumble, but suddenly raised the broken bottle for another drink. _Unbelievable_. Kara shook her head and started to withdraw. It wasn't her problem, after all. Before she had gone three steps, she got a very clear mental image of Berney trying to set the bottle on his leg or in his lap and stopped dead. _Not my problem_.

She turned around and went back to look in on Berney. _Don't be stupid. Remember why everyone hides in their rooms when he gets drunk_. Kara still didn't turn and head for her room. She wasn't about to approach him. Berney was known, at least by the kids at the state orphanage, as a mean drunk. Still… She couldn't just walk away knowing he'd likely hurt himself or worse. That still left her the question of what to do about it. She watched him for a time, trying to think of something that didn't involve drawing his attention.

Berney raised the bottle to his lips again and almost threw it away when he got nothing from it. Instead, he held onto it and let it dangle again. He did this twice more while Kara tried to think of a way to get it away from him. Each time she was certain he would stab himself.

After a time, though, he stopped moving. The hand holding the bottle grew slack and it almost fell. Berney began to snore. Seeing her chance, reasoning it would only take a gentle tug to get it away from him, she snuck up behind the chair. Kneeling quietly, she reached out and grasped the bottle, careful not to touch his hand.

A gentle pull began to dislodge it. What happened next happened too fast for her to follow. Berney gave a startled shout, and turned in his chair. As he did, he brought his arm up and back, yanking it form Kara's grasp and striking her in the face with the broken end. That was the last thing she remembered from that night.

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Jem and the group could only gape at the story. "Like I told Jerrica, I did something stupid."

"You were just trying to help him," Aja said. "You couldn't have known it would end like that." The others offered similar reassurances.

"Maybe there was a better way to handle it," Jem said, "but that's easy to say now."

Kara nodded. "I can think of about a dozen better plans now, of course, starting with walking away and hoping he neutered himself." Her audience gave a collective wince. "Sorry… I'm kind of bitter."

"Understandable," Jem allowed, after she'd purged an unwanted mental image. "How would that reflect poorly on you, though?"

"It took me a while to piece it together afterwards, but Berney kept his job despite the drinking for a reason. He was really good at hiding it."

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Kara had no idea where she was when she awoke. At first, she couldn't recall what had happened or why her face hurt so much. A look around soon showed it to be a hospital room. She tried to sit up to look around, but that only made the pain flare, and she collapsed back, dizzy and panting as the memory returned in a disjointed rush. She remembered coming home. She remembered a drunken Berney, and a broken bottle. The details eluded her at the moment. She began to cry and call for help.

The room was empty, but her crying soon brought a nurse who did her best to comfort her. She didn't know any of what happened herself, but she promised to get a doctor. She left Kara alone to return to her duties. The first person to arrive, however, wasn't a doctor.

"Kara Mistral?" He was an average looking man in his forties, with a touch of premature gray in his otherwise brown hair. The inexpensive brown suit he wore was worn in places, but he still looked, to Kara, very official and dignified when he showed her his badge.

Stationing himself on the left-hand side of her bed, something she appreciated as the right side of her face was covered with bandages so she couldn't see him from that angle, he introduced himself. "I'm Detective Carlyle. I was hoping to talk to you about what happened?"

"Where's the doctor?" Kara asked. "It hurts."

"I'm sure he'll be along soon. They'll get you some medicine for the pain. Given what happened, though, I thought it best I talk to you sooner rather than later. We want to arrest the one who did this."

"O-okay," Kara sniffed, trying to stop the tears. Her face hurt horribly and she mostly wanted to sleep and hope she'd wake up in her own bed, all of this a bad dream, but the man said he wanted to arrest Berney, and she wanted that to happen. "I-it's kind of a blur, but I remember…"

"Excuse me, Detective, but this is not appropriate." Both turned toward the door, where a man in a white coat stood scowling at the detective. "She's in no condition to be answering questions."

"I'd like to get her statement as soon as possible. We want the person that did this."

"I understand, but she needs time to recuperate. She's suffered a terrible trauma and needs rest. She'll need pain medication at the very least, and that will make her less than lucid. Come back later today or tomorrow." The detective nodded reluctantly and left.

The doctor asked a few simple questions and looked under her bandages briefly before he put something in her I.V. that numbed the pain and helped her sleep.

When she woke up, it was early evening and the doctor soon arrived to offer her dinner and talk to her about her injuries. Kara wasn't hungry, but she picked at the food as the doctor explained what had happened as best he knew.

"I'm sorry, Kara, but the damage is more than just simple cuts to your skin. The glass punctured your right eye. I'm so sorry, but there was nothing we could do. It's gone." Kara stared at him in disbelief. She raised a hand to the bandages and tried to tear them off, but the pain stopped her. The doctor gently gripped her wrist. "You'll only hurt yourself worse. There's nothing to be done."

Kara let her hands drop to the blanket and started to cry. The doctor tried to offer what comfort he could, but Kara turned on her side facing away from him and paid no attention. After a time, he left her alone.

When Detective Carlyle returned later that evening to speak to her, he found that Kara was eager to talk. She told him about coming home from work, which she had to explain to him, and finding Mr. Berney, drunk in the living room. As she spoke, the details came back to her, and she gave him what she could. The pain hadn't returned exactly, but her face felt hot and tight under the bandages and there was a dull throbbing ache that was very distracting. When she finished his story, Carlyle looked sympathetic and patted her arm.

"I know you've been through a lot, but I need to know precisely what happened. We won't be able to arrest the one who did this unless you tell us the whole truth. Is there anything you're leaving out?"

"What?" she asked, confused. "I told you what happened." What was the man talking about? Hadn't he listened? He'd been writing down things in his little book. She'd seen it. "I told you the whole truth."

"Okay," Carlyle nodded. "Details are important, though. If you have anything else you want to tell me or remember any more details, tell the nurse. She knows how to contact me." Kara nodded, unsure about why she was getting a bad feeling about this man. He patted her arm comfortingly and left her alone.

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"Hello, Kara." Detective Carlyle was back the following afternoon. Kara had been kept in the hospital by indications of a post-op infection. "We need to talk some more."

"Have you arrested Berney?"

"No. We need more information. I know you're scared after what happened, but I promise I can protect you if you'll trust me."

The bad feeling was back. She didn't know what he was getting at, but Kara knew she wouldn't like it. "Okay. What does that have to do with Berney? Just arrest him and I'll be safe."

"There's not a lot of evidence. We talked to the clerk at the liquor store. He said he doesn't know you."

"He'd get fired if his boss found out about the arrangement we have. I do his work after hours and he does…. whatever he does." She shrugged. "Watches TV, looks at dirty magazines. I don't know."

"That makes sense," Carlyle allowed, "but I offered to keep his boss out of it."

"He probably didn't believe you," Kara pointed out. "What do you care if he loses his job?"

"Maybe he's telling the truth," Carlyle offered. "I spent a lot of time talking to Berney and the other kids at the state home. He told us you've been staying out to all hours despite the rules he sets and that he's grounded you several times, piled on extra chores. Got to be tough living with someone so strict."

Kara shook her head. "What are you talking about? He's not strict. He lets us do pretty much whatever we want as long as it doesn't cause him trouble with his boss. He only gets 'strict' if someone does something to get Mrs. Reid's attention. When that happens, we all get punished."

"You said he was drunk when you got home. Can you tell us why we didn't find any bottles, broken or otherwise in the house?"

Kara stared at him in disbelief. "Nothing? You look in the garbage? Did you bother to smell his breath that night? I could smell him when I went into the room!"

"We searched the place after I talked to you. I talked to the paramedics who picked you up. They said that there was the smell of alcohol in the room, but it was coming from your clothes. Don't you think it's time you told me what really happened that night?"

"I told you what happened," Kara insisted loudly, starting to panic as the reason for the bad feeling became clear. "He's kept the job because he's good at hiding his drinking." She stared up at the ceiling and groaned. "I don't believe this. Did he actually stop to clean up while I was lying there bleeding?"

"I don't think so," Carlyle shook his head. "We found the blood trail you left from the front door to the living room. Forensics indicates you came home hurt."

"I wasn't hurt when I came home. He hit me with the bottle in the living room!" Kara insisted. The sinking feeling in her gut told her she was wasting her time. Berney was going to get away with it. He'd nearly killed her and he was going to get away with it.

"Then where did the blood on the walls and floor in the foyer come from? You expect us to believe he put it there?" Carlyle pushed on, ignoring her protests. "Now why don't you drop the pretense? Tell me about the gang you joined. Berney told us that you've been running with a rough bunch of teenagers." Kara couldn't answer. She only stared at him. "Did some sort of initiation get out of hand? Or were you fighting with a rival gang?" Kara could only gape at him, something he obviously interpreted as an admission. "Tell me about the gang, and I can help you."

"There's no gang!" she sputtered. "I told you what happened!"

"Mr. Berney has an excellent record with the city. There've been no proven claims against him. If he's so horrible, why hasn't anyone reported him before?"

"A couple have tried. Each time, no one would back them up. Everyone was afraid it wouldn't make a difference. One person complains, Berney claims its revenge for being too strict. He can get really nasty if you cross him, and he takes his bad mood out on all of us. So no one wants to risk it. If two or three of us came forward… what if the same thing happened? He's still in charge and… it gets worse."

"His supervisor with the city has nothing but good things to say about him," Carlyle continued. "He's got a good record. Yours is spotty." Kara kept silent and just glared at him. "I want to help you, but I can't unless you tell me the truth."

"I've told you the truth," she gritted out.

"Then why didn't anyone else at the orphanage see what happened? You were in the living room, you said."

"Everyone stays in their rooms when he starts drinking. Nothing short of the building burning down would get them to come out until morning."

Carlyle shook his head. "All right. I'll try to find some evidence to back up what you're saying, but right now, it's your word against his."

"Why do you assume I'm lying?" she started to rant, but something occurred to her. "You're going to send me back there, aren't you?" Kara asked with rising dread. "With him still running the place? He'd kill me! For real!" Carlyle asked her one more time if she would reconsider her story. She called him an asshole. The conversation went downhill from there.

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"Now, to be fair, that part of the city did have a gang problem at the time, and I knew a couple of older boys at the state home who'd joined one. I suppose the police felt obliged to investigate."

"Investigate a 12-year-old girl joining a street gang?" Jem asked incredulously.

Kara nodded. "Some of them recruited young since juveniles could get away with more and barely get punished."

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Carlyle wasn't the only visitor she received. Mrs. Reid, Berney's boss, came to visit to hear Kara's version. She told it, just as she had with Carlyle. The story had just as little effect. Reid found it hard to believe, but said she'd question the other kids and talk to Berney.

"Won't help," Kara grumped. "You say that like if you ask nice, he'll confess."

"It's his job to look after you all," she explained as if to an imbecile. "He's hardly going to hurt you."

"Are you sure you're not ignoring what's in front of you because you'll look bad if you find out I'm telling the truth?" That conversation also went downhill quickly.

Two days later Kara was returned to the orphanage, with a promise from Carlyle that he'd help her if she would be straight with him. Berney greeted her with the false warmth all of the kids at the orphanage were familiar with and dreaded. He was good at implying threats without actually saying anything threatening. Kara knew right away she was in for a rough time, and she determined to do something about it.

Orders from the doctor kept Berney from piling on chores, but he kept her restricted to the house and mostly to her room. He had other ways of making life unpleasant, though. The other kids at the orphanage weren't overly sympathetic since most of his punishments affected everyone. That ensured that the kids kept each other in line. At least that was Berney's reasoning. The man cared nothing for fair. He only cared that his life was made easier.

The only positive aspect of it, and that was debatable, was that the incident had scared him sober, at least temporarily. His close call had had an effect on him. Berney was very careful over the next month, constantly looking over his shoulder for any sign of a cop or his boss.

Unfortunately for the kids, a sober Berney was an unhappy Berney, and he tended to share that unhappiness with those around him. The verbal abuse increased. The food got worse and harder to come by, as he neglected the shopping and snapped at anyone who even looked like they might complain. Finally, about a month after Kara came home; Berney couldn't take it anymore and dipped into the household budget for a few bottles of Jack Daniels. Kara had been waiting for this and knew the signs to watch for. They all did, out of necessity.

Berney got the bottles on Thursday, but they knew it would be at least Saturday before he settled in for a round of binge drinking. Kara took full advantage of the delay. Friday morning, she used the payphone at school to place a call to Mrs. Reid's office and extended an invitation, on Mr. Berney's behalf, to dinner, Saturday night, for her and her husband. She accepted and said they'd be there about 7:00.

True to form, Berney started his binge a little before 6:00, causing children to retreat to their rooms without supper in order to avoid him. Kara snuck downstairs about 6:45 and waited in the foyer so she could open the door for Reid and her husband. Berney, she noted, was already drunk. Shortly after 7:00, she saw them coming up the front walk and quietly opened the door for the couple.

Mrs. Reid frowned when she saw Kara, remembering the accusations the girl had made, but decided to proceed as if the conversation had never happened. She smiled politely as Kara ushered them in. "I hope we're not late," she said.

"Not at all. Right through the living room. Dinner is about to start."

The couple nodded politely and started into the living room. "What are we having?" Mrs. Reid managed to ask just before catching sight of Berney who had lurched to his feet at the sound of their voices and stood with the half empty liquor bottle clutched in his right hand. The two stared at each other in shock as Kara entered the room behind her.

Kara smirked at the astonished look on the woman's face. "We're serving crow."

Berney focused on her and snarled. "You little shit, what did you do? What's _she_ doing here?"

"I invited your boss to dinner on your behalf," Kara answered honestly. "Wish I'd thought of it months ago. I'd still have two eyes." Mrs. Reid turned to face Kara, her mouth opening and closing silently for a moment as the pieces of a very ugly picture clicked into place for her. Kara met her gaze without any sign of hesitation or regret. Mrs. Reid looked away first.

"I don't understand," her husband interrupted. "Why is he drunk? I thought he ran the state home for you." He looked to his wife for an explanation.

"He used to," she answered, glaring furiously at Berney. "I trusted you to take care of these children, and this is how you spend your time here? How you spend the state's money?" Berney opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "There's no way to explain this away. Don't bother. Jack Berney, you're fired. I want you out of this place within the hour and I fully intend to revisit every complaint against you to see what criminal charges need to be made."

Berney tried to interrupt, though what he would have said, Kara couldn't imagine. Finally, he gave up on talk.

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"He was sober enough to know he was in serious trouble, but too drunk to do anything intelligent about it," Kara explained.

"So what did he do?" Aja asked for the group.

"He punched her in the face. Twice. Hard. He would have kept hitting her, but her husband tackled him." She shook her head regretfully. "I did not see that coming. I wanted her to see Berney for what he was, but I never expected him to do that." She sighed. "I guess I _should_ have expected it, knowing his temper."

"So he was arrested for assaulting his boss, but not for maiming you?"

"Never enough evidence to charge him with that," Kara practically spat. "Her husband, ADA Reid, was furious with me, and I think he tried to find a way to charge me over what Berney did to his wife. Broken nose, four lost teeth, two of which she swallowed. She had to be operated on when one got into her lung."

"He blamed you?"

Kara glanced away, looking a bit embarrassed. "I wasn't exactly apologetic." Kara admitted.

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Detective Carlyle looked back and forth between Kara and Assistant District Attorney Reid, wondering what he had done to deserve having to deal with the current mess. "So, you invited them to dinner, knowing Mr. Berney would be drunk?"

"Right. You going to arrest him this time?"

Carlyle winced at her tone, but nodded. "Already done."

"You invited us over hoping that something like this would happen?" Mr. Reid demanded, looking away from the ambulance his wife was being loaded into. "You do realize you're as much to blame for her injuries as he is? If you had handled this properly, gone through channels-"

"Properly?" Kara hissed, losing her temper. "I tried doing it properly." She pulled aside the hair she had begun to wear in a manner that hid her scars. "After he did this to me! I told the police! I told your wife! I was ignored." She glared at Carlyle who had seen the scars before and merely looked pained at the reminder and then at Reid, who stepped back in shock. "She didn't just ignore me; she put me back in the house with the guy who did it! That was what proper channels got me." Kara turned her glare on Carlyle. "Do you have any idea what the last month has been like for me?!" The detective couldn't answer, so she pushed on. "Got enough evidence now, or are you going to let him go?"

"I-I don't know what this is about," Reid started, "but-"

Kara turned back to face him. "'But' nothing. Don't stand here whining to me about what _I_ should have done." Her voice rose to a level that made the cops and paramedics stop what they were doing and turn to look. "GO DO YOUR FUCKING JOBS! And do them 'PROPERLY'!"

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"Berney is still in jail for attacking Mrs. Reid, but he wasn't charged with attacking me. The evidence was too confused. His word against mine. I testified about him hitting Reid, but I was warned not to try to bring up what he did to me. The case would have been thrown out."

"So the investigation into what happened to you?" Cheyna asked.

"Officially, it's still open. No one is investigating. The file just has speculation about gang involvement and notes about confused forensic evidence."

"That's quite a story," Jem said. "I guess I can see how you wouldn't want that brought up. I'm almost afraid to ask about the other scar."

"There's one thing I don't understand," Cheyna interrupted before Kara could answer. "Why didn't any of the other kids at the orphanage back you up? Or the other times someone complained?"

"That's… complicated, and it was the cause of a lot of friction, believe me." She thought a moment. "Have you ever heard of the prisoner's dilemma?" The others shook their heads. "It's a sort of hypothetical situation. Two prisoners are trying to escape from their captors. For both to escape, they need to cooperate and trust each other completely, but either one can guarantee his own escape at any time, by betraying the other to the guards. What to do?"

"So the other kids kept quiet, even when one of them decided he couldn't take it and complained, to protect themselves?"

"Yeah. Thing is, it didn't work. Any time someone caused him problems, we'd all get the punishment to some degree, even if it was just putting up with his worse than usual mood, which he spread around like you wouldn't believe. And there was the fact that no one could be sure that more than one person complaining would work. He had his boss completely fooled up to that night. She supported him against some pretty awful complaints." The others looked down, considering that. After a time, each realized that they could believe it even if they didn't like what it said about people in general.


	8. BACKSTORY Pt 2

CH. 8 BACKSTORY PART 2

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for continuing to post this. My own access is intermittent at the moment. As always, reviews are welcome and encouraged. I've written most of the story but I'm willing to take requests and suggestions into account, making the story, somewhat, review driven. Let me know how I'm doing.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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"The story of my other scar," Kara broke off their ruminations as time was running out, "is actually worse than that one."

"Worse?" Aja echoed incredulously. "How could it be worse?"

"You told Jerrica you were mugged in the park," Jem broke in, "and that he tried to kill you when you saw his face."

Kara nodded. "That's right. I also said I'm alive because I got lucky. I knew when I became your drummer that some…maybe all of these things would come out, but I'm asking for now, don't push for details. There are some things I just can't talk about." There were aspects of that story that Kara would never willingly tell. They were part of the official record, but that record was sealed by her request and a court order. She opted for a short version, leaving out the worst aspects of it. She still relived it, though, as she told the edited version.

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The walk through the park was a calculated risk. It cut 20 minutes off her walk home, but it wasn't terribly safe. The park was well lighted, but there had still been incidents there. Sticking to the main path, though, was pretty safe. Kara walked with a confident stride, her head up and constantly scanning the path around her, just as the self-defense teacher at the Y had taught them. One of the first rules, the man had said, was 'be aware of your surroundings' and the second was 'don't look like an easy mark.' That, Kara excelled at. Even at 14, she managed to look like someone that was better left alone.

She had started taking self-defense classes after the incident with Berney to keep from feeling helpless. She knew that no amount of training would have prevented what had happened that night, but being prepared still felt good. Kara knew how to fight if the need arose, and she knew, more importantly according to the instructor, when not to fight. Unfortunately, the lessons didn't help that night. She only learned the details after the fact, as it had to be pieced together from forensic evidence and deductive reasoning.

She never heard the man coming. Police speculated that he'd had a lot of practice in ambushing young women, as the M.O. matched attacks on three other teenage girls. A blow to the back of the head put her down. She must have awakened at some point during the attack, but could never remember the details, not that she had tried very hard after what she'd been told by the police

Kara awoke, for the second time in her life, alone in a hospital room. She tried to sit up but was stopped by the stabbing pains in her head, chest, and side. There were other pains too, and they confused and frightened her. Moving more carefully, she scanned the room for anyone who might be there as well as for the call button. She found the latter and pushed it. Only two minutes later, a nurse came in to check on her.

"I'm glad you're awake. There are people waiting to talk to you," the woman said.

"How long have I been here? Why am I here? What happened?!" Kara hated the frantic note that was creeping into her voice, but the nurse seemed to understand.

"You've been unconscious for two days," she said quietly. "I'm sorry to say, I don't have any details. The doctor can tell you more. He's been paged." She made some notes on Kara's chart and apologized before leaving her alone. Almost 20 minutes passed before a doctor arrived to check on her.

Dr. Markison introduced himself as he glanced at her chart and then began a more detailed exam while he tried to answer her simpler questions and put off others until he was done. Finally, he stood back. "You don't know why you're here? What is the last thing you remember?"

"Walking home through the park," she answered promptly. "It feels like someone hit me with a brick."

"That may well be what was used," the doctor replied. "I should begin with the nature of your injuries, Miss Mistral. You have three broken ribs, a long gash apparently from a hunting knife, running from your shoulder to the middle of your left breast, a severe concussion, and numerous minor cuts and abrasions." He paused before continuing. "You have also been raped."

Kara had hoped she was wrong about the pain she felt there. She could feel heavy bruises on her hips and on her thighs. Her privates felt bruised as well, inside and out. "Who?" she demanded, trying to get angry; fearing she'd break down otherwise. "Did the police get him?"

"You'll need to speak to the detectives about that, Miss Mistral. There are two waiting to speak to you now." Kara nodded silently, needing time to absorb what had happened but also needing to know. "I'll send them in if you feel up to it." His tone was questioning and again Kara nodded, managing to suppress a wince as she instantly regretted it. "All right, but no more than ten minutes. You need rest."

He withdrew and a man and woman came in. "Kara Mistral?" the one in the lead asked. She was in her mid-forties with brunette hair worn in a bun. Although only a little taller than Kara, she carried herself straight and proud and looked to be all business. "I'm detective Larson; this is my partner, detective Brachs." She took her place on Kara's left and managed to look sympathetic. "The doctor filled us in on your injuries and on what happened to you. I'm sorry you went through that, and I don't want to put any more strain on you than there already is, but we need you to tell us what happened."

"That's what I want to know," Kara told her. "The last thing I remember was walking through the park. Somebody must have hit me from behind, but the next thing I know, I woke up here." The two detectives exchanged unreadable looks. "The doctor told me about my ribs and the knife and… the rest." She broke off, shoving those thoughts away for the time being, focusing almost desperately on the anger. "Did you catch him?"

"There…wasn't a need to catch him," Detective Brachs told her. "He's dead."

"Did you shoot him?"

"No," Detective Larson answered. "He was found dead a short distance from where officers found you. He'd been stabbed with a broken bottle."

"The same bottle," Brachs broke in, "that was found in your hand. We were hoping you could explain."

"I-I…" Kara broke off in shock as the anger that normally provided such a fine barrier to fear and hurt deserted her entirely. For a moment, she could only gape. "No! I wouldn't do that! I couldn't…" She trailed off, thinking of the scars on her face and how she'd gotten them.

"People can do surprising things when their lives are at risk," Detective Larson told her. "You certainly had reason to defend yourself, and that's not a crime. You don't have any reason to worry on that score." Kara said nothing, looking away; emotions in turmoil.

"Perhaps we should have expected some trouble remembering, given the head injury and all you've been through," Detective Brachs continued sympathetically. "Give it a few days. Then we'll see what you remember."

"A statement from you would help tie up all the loose ends," Larson added, "but the forensic evidence is pretty strong without it."

"Forensic evidence?" Kara asked. She had heard the term before, of course; two years before, when police had told her that forensic evidence didn't support her story. It had something to do with physical evidence, what police could learn without talking to anyone.

"That means physical evidence at the crime scene," Brachs explained. "We got a pretty good idea what happened from the scene and the condition you and Mr. Banks were in. You were in rough shape, while he only had the one injury, a deep laceration to the inside of this right thigh. The angle indicates you were lying on the ground and stabbing upwards."

Larson shot him a look, and he stopped talking, realizing he might have said more than he should. "It's obvious you were defending yourself from a violent attack," she said. "You have nothing to feel bad about."

"Who's Banks?"

"Harland Banks," Larson sighed after a moment. "That was the man who attacked you. Had you ever met him?"

"No," Kara answered, careful not to shake her head. It felt as if it might fall off if she did.

"You don't need to worry about him," Brachs assured her. "We'll be back to check up on you," Brachs said. "You rest and we'll see if you can remember what happened." Both detectives left at that point, as the doctor appeared at the door, tapping his wrist watch. The doctor checked her vitals once more and gave her some medicine that eased her pain somewhat and helped her sleep.

It was two days before the detectives returned. They had another with them, someone Kara remembered all too well. She glared at Carlyle, who had the grace to look embarrassed. "Hello, Kara," he greeted her awkwardly.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Kara asked Detective Larson, her tone making it clear she wasn't happy to see the other detective.

"You two know each other?" Brachs asked, glancing between the angry girl and the unhappy looking detective.

Kara merely scowled, so Larson glanced at Carlyle.

"Long story," he sighed. "It just makes this all the more awkward, unfortunately."

"What does he mean?" Kara asked, looking at Larson. "What is he screwing up this time?"

Larson was clearly curious, but shoved that aside. Instead, she sighed regretfully. "He… he has a job to do," Larson said awkwardly. Kara didn't like the sound of that, and she was confused over why Carlyle seemed so uncomfortable about being there.

"I'm told you don't remember the events of that night," Carlyle began, focusing on his task.

"No. I know I got hit, but I don't really remember that. Just a huge headache when I woke up."

"So you can't corroborate what forensic evidence there is?"

"How would I do that?" she wanted to know. "I thought Detective Larson said it was clear."

"It is," Larson said, earning an annoyed look from Carlyle.

"The forensic evidence is… open to interpretation. If you can't," he hesitated over his next words, "won't tell us what happened; then, I don't have a choice in the matter." He looked distinctly unhappy, about what he was doing, but pressed on. "Kara Mistral. I am hereby placing you under arrest for the murder of Harland Banks. You have the right to remain silent." Kara didn't. She protested, loudly. When it was clear words weren't going to help, she lost her temper and threw a, fortunately empty, bedpan at him, hitting him square in the face, much to the quickly concealed amusement of Detective Larson.

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Kimber snickered. "You threw a bedpan at him?"

Kara shrugged. "I was angry and I figured if he was going to arrest me anyway, I might as well commit a crime. Assaulting an officer seemed appropriate just then."

"So, how did that work out?" Jem asked.

"The charges were dropped within a week. I was still in the hospital. Carlyle made a point of telling me himself and apologizing. He said what he believed didn't matter. He'd been handed the case and given orders. Seems Banks' family has money and some pull with the city and refused to believe what happened. Charges were filed, but as soon as a judge got a chance to look over the case file he called the D.A. into his office and chewed him out over wasting the court's time. Even wanted an investigation into how it got that far and how open to outside influences the D.A.'s office was."

"Serves them right," Cheyna snorted. "Did you ever remember the details from that night?"

"No, but to be honest, I haven't tried very hard. I just know what the forensics showed. I got hit but apparently not knocked out. I must have gotten a good look at him, but I didn't recognize the picture they showed me later." She shook her head in irritation. "We apparently fought, and I got the worst of it till I happened on that bottle." She broke off, looking pained. "Still can't believe I did that," she said in a quieter voice. "A broken bottle!"

"Sounds like you didn't have a lot of choice," Jem said comfortingly. "Your life was on the line. No one could reasonably blame you for that." The others nodded in agreement.

"I know, but it doesn't make it easier and…" Kara trailed off for a moment, thinking about what she had left out of the story, the rape and the rest of what she hadn't told them and never would, before continuing. "Let's just say I'm not a big fan of irony."

"That," Jem nodded gravely, "I can understand."


	9. Meet the Press

CH. 9 MEET THE PRESS

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this for me. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara glanced at her watch. "It's almost time for the interview," she noted. They quickly got organized and prepared to leave for the studio. Jem stopped Kara before she left the room.

"Thank you for telling us," she said quietly. That can't have been easy for you."

"It was the only fair thing to do," Kara shrugged. "My problems shouldn't be yours, and something about those times is bound to come up. Maybe not today but there are plenty of 'journalists' out there who love a good scandal."

Jem nodded, knowing her new drummer was right. The group had had run-ins with that sort before, and it was never fun. Letting the conversation drop, they followed the rest to the car outside.

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Harriet Horne was an energetic woman. She greeted them warmly and thanked them all for coming. She also made a point of greeting Kara specifically. She had, she said, a lot of questions for the new drummer and had made extra time for the interview.

Kara simply nodded and said she was ready. Although wary of the woman, she tried not to show any nervousness that the talk show host might zero in on and try to play on. They were led to a set containing a couch and a fake desk that Harriet sat behind. One of the production assistants asked Kara to rearrange her hair so the audience could see her face, but Kara shook her head and simply shifted position to give the audience the best view. The man frowned slightly, but Horne waved him off and he let it go.

The interview started off normally enough. Horne welcomed them to her show and began with a compliment. "You're even more gorgeous than your pictures," she smiled winningly at Kara, who smiled slightly and thanked her. Jem was asked how Kara had been selected, and she told Harriet how their road manager had brought her to the group's attention.

Kara was asked about her musical background and how she learned to play. She answered these questions simply and directly, managing to come off as shy rather than terse. Harriet did manage to surprise her when she asked about Kara's singing. She had done vocals for a couple of obscure bands when she was a teenager. "I can sing," she allowed, "but I prefer the drums."

"Oh, come now, pretty as you are, you don't like being center stage?" Harriet asked, almost teasingly. Kara merely shrugged.

"I know where my talents lie." Then, the first sign of trouble showed.

"I understand you've got a couple of kids?"

"Twin daughters," Kara smiled. She always did when the subject of her babies came up. "If you want me to talk about them, though, we'll be here all night." Harriet chuckled as did some in the studio audience.

"Proud mother, eh? A bit surprising, since you had them when you were fifteen. Taking care of two babies and dealing with the disapproval you must have gotten from some people couldn't have been easy."

Kara took a moment to phrase the answer in her mind, knowing it was important not to be misunderstood. "What other people thought of it didn't and doesn't matter," Kara said after her usual pause to consider her words. "They are the best part of my life."

"I don't doubt it," Harriet answered with a slightly predatory smile. "In fact, it seems to have done you a world of good."

Kara heard alarm bells, but managed not to frown. "How so?"

"Well based on the life you led up to that point, getting pregnant at 14 settled you down quite a bit." Kara stiffened slightly on the couch where she and the other guests sat. "I mean; a street gang at age 12, arrested for murder at age 14. Sounds like you kept the police busy."

Harriet had been watching the other members of the band, hoping for a shocked reaction for her audience to enjoy, maybe even an argument on the air. Instead, each and every member of the group save Kara was glaring at her.

"I told them about that," Kara said calmly without looking around at the rest of the band. "If you're hoping to shock them, you're wasting your time." She paused to consider her next words carefully. "I can tell by your near slander that you have a few facts, but not many. If you knew the whole story, you wouldn't have bothered to bring those incidents up."

Harriet backpedaled a bit. "My sources tell me-"

"Half-truths?" Kara interrupted. "Denials and no-comments?" She chose her next words carefully, editing herself to avoid creating the scandal the woman wanted. "From which you made wild guesses?" Kara shook her head. "Either that or you bribed someone at the court clerk's office and then didn't do more than glance at the file. I suppose you want me to set the record straight, tell your audience what actually happened."

"The truth-"

"Is of no interest to you," Jem interrupted angrily. "Kara's right. You want her to tell a story to boost your ratings."

"I don't mind telling the story," Kara told her, doing an admirable job of hiding just how angry she was. "I suppose I'll have to at some point, now that you've brought it up, but it won't be for the benefit of a gossip monger masquerading as a journalist." She stood and walked off the set, Jem and the others right behind her. Harriet was stunned. No one had ever walked out on her before, and it hadn't occurred to her that Kara Mistral might. It certainly never occurred to her that Jem and the others would follow her example. A glance at the clock showed her she had almost 20 minutes to fill.

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"That was… just rude!" Jem fumed as they walked away from the studio. "Ambushing you like that, just to get a scandal going."

"It wouldn't work," Kara shrugged. "I did nothing illegal and nothing I'm ashamed of."

"What about beaning that detective with a bedpan?" Kimber asked with snicker.

"I might have felt a bit guilty if it had been full," Kara admitted. The others made sounds of disgust and Kara laughed openly at their reaction. "Time to go home," she said after allowing the others to get over their disgust and the giggles that followed. "I want to tuck my girls in."

"I can drop you off," Kimber offered. "You'll be an hour back and forth to Starlight Music otherwise. I can pick you up in the morning, too."

"Thanks," Kara smiled. "I appreciate that." She followed Kimber to her car and the two drove away.

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It was just after 10:00 when a squad car pulled up to Starlight Mansion with Kimber, Kara, and the twins. Jerrica greeted them at the door, but saved the questions when she saw the looks on their faces. Kara looked angry and Kimber looked nervous but determined. Each carried a sleeping girl. Jerrica had still been up doing paperwork and seen them arrive.

"What happened?" she asked, worried over the police car and the look on her sister's face.

"Kara and the twins will be staying with us for a while."

"Okay," Jerrica nodded, "but what brought this on?"


	10. Moving Day

CH. 10 MOVING DAY

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Since chapter 10 is so short I decided to post 9 and 10 together. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kimber didn't like what she was seeing. "This is your neighborhood?"

"It's affordable," Kara answered, "and better than the streets."

"By how much?" Kimber wondered aloud as she eyed the rundown, graffiti covered buildings. She had seen this neighborhood on the news, and it was generally considered a place to avoid. Kara didn't comment, merely giving directions to her apartment building.

She had lived in the area too long to be oblivious to the signs of trouble and found herself missing the knife she had left in her car at Starlight Music. Just displaying it had warded off trouble before, though she doubted it would have helped at the moment. There were only a few people out on the streets, and they were either moving very quickly to get inside or they were waiting at various spots, watching for something. "I don't like this," she commented.

"What do you mean?"

"You see the jerseys and caps some of these people are wearing?"

"Yeah."

"Gang colors. Something's going on. Let's get the girls and get to my place."

The twins' babysitter for the evening lived on the first floor of the building. "Let's get them and get upstairs," Kara said. "Ground floor might not be safe tonight." Kara knocked on the door, and a nervous Hispanic woman opened the door after peering at her through the peephole.

"The girls are watching a movie. I will get them."

"Bring yourself and Jaime, too," Kara told her. "There could be trouble outside." She went to collect the girls and found them with Jaime lying on pillows on the floor while they watched some animated fairy tale. "Time to go, girls."

"Can we watch the rest, mommy?" Sarah asked with barely a glance at her mother. "It's only half an hour."

Kara was about to tell them they could finish upstairs when there were several popping noises outside. "Everyone down!" Kara yelled and dropped to her knees, before covering the three kids with her body. The shooting went on briefly before the apartment window shattered and the TV went dark with a small round hole in the screen. "I think the movie's over," Kara stated as the sound of sirens interrupted the shooting. "Everyone sound off. Kimber?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm okay," Sonia called, from where she lay on the floor.

Kara collected reassurances from the crying children before getting to her hands and knees and moving to glance outside. There were two squad cars outside and a lot of shouting. "Okay. Everyone upstairs while things are calm. The third floor should be safe." She hustled everyone upstairs and told Sonia she and Jaime could stay as long as they needed.

"They'll be staying here alone," Kimber said decisively.

"What?" Kara asked, turning to her.

"Get yourself and the twins packed. You're moving in with us." She wouldn't take no for an answer, and Kara wasn't inclined to argue. Ten minutes later, they were out of the building and promising the officers they would drop by the station to make a statement about the shooting the next day. The two uniforms weren't inclined to detain them after seeing the two frightened six year-olds.

"Let's get moving," Kimber urged, anxious to leave the area, then she stopped. "Assuming the car still runs." It looked as if someone had used it as shelter during the shooting. The windshield and passenger side front window each had a hole. The right headlight was broken; there were two bullet holes in the body, just above the driver's side front tire and a third in the grill.

An officer joined them. "Is this your car?"

Kimber nodded. "I suppose we won't be driving anywhere in it tonight."

"Probably not," he agreed, noting where some of the bullet holes were located. "It would actually be easier for us if you didn't. Right now, it's part of the crime scene, but I can arrange to have a unit drive you home." Both women nodded. The officer looked sympathetically at the girls. "We'll need a statement, but it can wait till tomorrow."

He collected their names and numbers and called over to the newly arrived detective and explained the situation before arranging a unit to drive them to Starlight Mansion.

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"I'm just glad you're both here safe," Jerrica sighed, giving her sister a hug. She turned to Kara then. "Let's find you and the girls some rooms. You've all had a long day."

They put the twins to bed first, in a room on the first floor so they wouldn't have to navigate the stairs with the girls who were out like a light. Since they had always shared a room, and usually a bed, Kara had them put in one room and took the one next to it.

"We'll work out the details tomorrow," Jerrica assured her. "Right now, you all need some sleep." Kara agreed, and after checking on the sleeping girls one last time, went to bed.


	11. New Life

CH. 11 NEW LIFE

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara woke early the next morning. She went next door and found that, at some point during the night; Laura had left her twin-sized bed and joined Sarah in hers. She left them to sleep a bit longer and returned to her own room to dress. When done, she looked in on the girls and found them awake and talking.

"Do you think they're still fighting at home?" Sarah asked. Laura only shrugged. "Maybe we'll get to stay here a while?"

"Hope so. I like it here. Ba Nee is nice."

"Pool looks fun, too," Sarah nodded. Laura agreed.

"Come on girls," Kara interrupted. "Time to start the day." She wasn't sure she wanted them speculating about the luxuries to be had at Starlight Mansion. The idea of sponging off anyone didn't sit well with her. She got them washed and dressed and headed downstairs, where Jerrica and a swarm of hungry girls greeted them.

Kara and Kimber retold the story over breakfast. "Well," Jerrica said finally, "you can stay here as long as you need to. In fact, it'll be a lot more convenient. You can drive to work from here and use the practice rooms here without commuting."

"It will save time and gas," Kara admitted, still reluctant. It sounded like justification to her, however valid the point.

"Don't be too anxious to leave," Kimber smiled. "You're not exactly freeloading, you know." The statement caught the others by surprise, and Kara stiffened slightly. Sometimes the redhead was more insightful than anyone gave her credit for being. "Having you here saves time and trouble for everyone. Plus you can save up the money you were using on rent."

"You won't have to worry about Mr. Ayalla bugging you about the rent," Laura chimed in, obviously hoping to sway her mother.

Kara winced, wondering how much the girls knew or would say about that. "Are you behind?" Jerrica asked delicately.

"No." Kara shook her head as she transferred another pancake onto her plate. "I pay the rent and every other bill promptly, but it leaves very little for anything else. Ayalla liked to pretend sympathy. He….kept suggesting that I could pay my rent another way." The rest of the band looked shocked.

"What a creep," Cheyna huffed after a moment's silence.

"Why's that bad?" Sarah asked innocently. "You traded favors for a lot of people in the building." Kara blushed when everyone stared at her, slack-jawed.

"That's different," she explained to her daughters patiently. "I don't mind babysitting Jaime or the other kids if I can get their parents to watch you when I need to work, and I was happy enough to play drums for Tangerine Sunrise when Randy broke his hand. Vinnie fixed the car in exchange. What Ayalla wanted me to do was illegal."

Jerrica and the others managed to look relieved and embarrassed at the same time. Sarah and Laura just looked curious. "He wanted you to rob a bank or something?" Sarah asked.

"Or something," Kara smiled. "Forget him; we won't have to see him again." She moved on to their plans for the day, and the twins were soon distracted. The band needed to rehearse for an upcoming concert, and there was a three day tour starting in a couple of weeks. Jerrica had meetings with a publisher and several promoters to arrange. It was going to be busy for a while. The twins had a mansion to explore and new friends to get to know. Playing with the Starlight Girls would keep them busy and not asking embarrassing questions for some time to come, Kara hoped.

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Kara and the twins settled into the mansion and were readily accepted. Ba Nee and Mary-Anne, who had till then, been the youngest, were happy to have the twins around and the Mistral family's lives began to settle into a new rhythm. The other foster girls quickly discovered that Kara, while reserved, was not unfriendly. She proved willing to help with homework and let the others sit in on the twins' lessons. Sarah and Laura, thanks to Kara's efforts, were reading at a third grade level. She also began to teach some of them French along with the twins. It had surprised everyone when the twins occasionally slipped into French when speaking to each other, until Kara explained her own background.

"I was lucky. You see, I was born in Marseilles and lived there till I was six. After my father died, mom and me moved to the U.S." She paused to shove away memories of her mother. "My English was decent when I was put in the orphanage, so I didn't have too many problems that way, but there was an older girl there, who'd lived in Quebec most of her life. She told me I shouldn't forget French and worked on it with me, making sure I knew the English and French words for things."

"That sounds like a good idea," Jerrica smiled. "I'm glad you're willing to teach them when you have the time."

Kara shrugged. "Where I was born, everyone spoke at least three languages. Least it seemed that way. I found it a little strange that most people here only spoke English."

"Told you you wouldn't be freeloading," Kimber smiled. Kara just nodded, acknowledging the point.

"So, why did you and your mother move to the States?" Jerrica asked.

"Mom was American, and when dad died, she was no longer married to a French citizen. We were… asked to leave the country." The others expressed sympathy and the opinion that that hardly seemed fair, but Kara shrugged it off, as it was ancient history to her.

Of course, having Kara at the mansion made certain things more difficult. It put pressure on Jerrica and the others regarding Jem's secret. Having Reya know the truth didn't make matters easier. The Hispanic woman had assured them she would keep their secret, but they were still nervous. They were somewhat reassured when she hadn't tried to use the knowledge to her advantage, but things happened. They made it plain to her that they would always consider her a friend for the help she had given them.

Kara became a bit annoyed over the next few days at the way conversations ended when she walked into the room, but tried not to show it. She wasn't entirely successful. The third time it happened, Kara stopped and stared at them levelly for a moment, her expression studiously blank before she turned and started out.

"Kara, wait," Jerrica called after the angry drummer. Kara paused and waited, but didn't turn back. "You've got every right to be angry; we're not being fair to you."

"Your secrets are yours," Kara answered stiffly. "I don't pry, but this is getting annoying."

"I know," Jerrica sighed, "and I'm sorry. It's a big secret we need to talk about and if the wrong people find out, someone could get hurt." Kara turned to regard her coolly. "That's not a threat," Jerrica hastened to say. "We worry about how this secret might be used. In the wrong hands, it could hurt a lot of people. No one wants that."

"Make a decision, then," Kara told her. "You trust me or you don't."

The others looked at each other, taking a silent vote and finally nodded. "Come on, Kara," Jerrica got to her feet, "we need to show you something." She led the way to a little used part of the mansion, most of the rooms in that area used for storage, and stopped near a blank section of wall. "It's best if we talk in private. There's someone I want you to meet." With that, she walked through the wall.

Kara hadn't expected that. Raising a hand curiously, she pushed through the insubstantial wall and followed. The room beyond contained a couch, a coffee table, and a bizarre looking piece of equipment dominated by an oval screen. The image on the screen, a violet skinned, purple-haired woman, regarded her without expression. The blank eyes followed her as she crossed the room toward it. The image glanced at Jerrica. "Are you sure?"

"Bit late to ask that, isn't it?" Kara addressed the machine. Then she glanced at the others. "Holograms. Huh. I wondered what that was about."

"You never did ask," Cheyna recalled.

Shrugging, Kara answered, "I played for a band called Tangerine Sunrise and once auditioned for one called Nine Inch Nails." The others acknowledged the point and moved on, introducing her to Synergy.

"I was designed by Jerrica's father to be a new type of entertainment system, but I became much more than he intended." The image nodded to Kara's right and she turned to find a platoon of heavily armed soldiers in the room. A room that suddenly lacked a fourth wall and opened onto a tropical beach. "He knew I could be used to hurt people if my holograms fell into the wrong hands. That is why keeping this secret is so important."

"Showtime, Synergy," Jerrica nodded. The group's manager was surrounded by light for a second, and when it faded, Jem stood in her place. "Synergy creates the Jem hologram and quite a few of our special effects."

"That must be hard to explain to your road manager and the special effects crew," Kara observed after a moment of stunned silence. The technology and its potential were a bit unnerving.

"It can be," Jem sighed. "Rio doesn't know. The only people who do are in this room… Well except for Reya, and she's promised to keep the secret."

"I'll keep your secret," Kara assured her.

"I was sure you would," Kimber smiled. "After all, you told us yours for pretty much the same reason."

Kara thought about that for a moment and nodded. Like hers, this secret could have caused problems for the group. She knew the rhythm which had been faltering because of their secrecy would steady after this and decided to help it along. After a moment's consideration, she said, "there are a lot of reasons for keeping a secret, Kimber; some good, some not. Protecting someone else is probably the best reason. I never made those stories public knowledge, not because I considered them secrets, but because they were no one's business but my own."

Jem nodded in understanding. "So when you joined the Holograms, you knew they might become a problem for us."

"Downside to fame," Kara nodded. "Your business becomes everyone's."

The others nodded, having all seen the truth of that statement. Kara had discovered that she cared little for fame but that she still had to be aware of the realities. The music was what mattered to her. If she could do that without having to worry about the antics of the press, she'd be much happier.


	12. Pressed

CH. 12 PRESSED

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review. Let me know how I'm doing? Love it? Hate it?

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Repercussions from Horne's stunt weren't long in coming. Several reporters ambushed them at a benefit for Haven House, but Kara shook her head when questions about the work being done at the shelter were interrupted by questions about her past. "There will be a time and place for that story, here and now isn't it."

Surprisingly, the reporters had accepted that and moved on. Some, though, weren't as easily deterred. After a party celebrating the release of a new single, the band was again assaulted by reporters. One stuck a microphone in Kara's face and asked her to comment on the murder charge.

"And you are?" Kara asked, not flinching away from the microphone a few inches from her face.

"Stan Kurtz, Cool Trash."

Kara had learned a lot about the various magazines and TV shows that followed the music industry and musicians, and had definite opinions about the scandal sheet. She tried to be polite, though, maintaining her habit of thinking out what she would say before saying it. She knew this made her seem slow, to some, but didn't particularly care. Her sharp tongue had gotten her into trouble in the past. "Well, Stan, unless you've been as shoddy in your research as the one who first brought it up, you know that charge was dropped." She didn't bother to say that it had been self-defense. She still wasn't ready to tell that story. That the charges had been dropped was enough, as it was obvious to everyone who thought about it more than a few seconds.

"Did you know a recent poll by Cool Trash showed that 40% of our readers think you're a murderer?"

Seeing trouble coming, and not wanting Kara overwhelmed, Jem tried to intervene, and draw attention to herself, but her new drummer had become annoyed and let the first thing to pop into her head come out. "So what? Forty percent of your readers think the constitution guarantees the right to arm bears."

Kurtz' jaw dropped comically. Several other reporters had moved into get her response to the news and laughed openly at what became a favorite sound bite over the next week. Jem stepped in, managing to conceal her own reaction to the statement. "I think that's enough on that topic for now." She'd had plenty of experience dealing with the press and managed to divert them long enough to wrap up the press conference and get them moving.

"So," Cheyna commented when they were safely in the limo and moving away. "That's what happens when you speak without thinking?" The others gave up their efforts to maintain straight faces and burst out laughing.

"Arm bears," Kimber snickered. "Did you see the look on his face?"

"I think everyone did," Kara sighed. "There were several camera's pointed at us." The others laughed a bit more, but sobered after a while.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Jem said. "Cool Trash has a well-deserved reputation and they get a lot of abuse. You were just cleverer about it than most." They let the matter drop for the time being, but everyone got a good laugh as the clip was replayed several times over the next week. Lindsay Pierce played the clip, as did the Tonight Show and a few others. Kara was offered the chance to tell her story on several occasions but chose carefully, as venue was important.

Telling her story, on one of the late night talk shows, did wonders for the show's ratings. Clearing up legal issues that needed to be worked out before the show took a couple of weeks. The Banks family had threatened to sue her and publicly reveal all of the rotten details if she ever 'slandered' Harland by talking publicly about what happened. Harland Banks' name was left out of the story, as were the full details, but the reason his name was withheld was mentioned. It was told just as she had told it to the band. Kara had no real fear of what would come of it. If the worst happened and the Banks family did reveal the twins' parentage, she would deal with it. She had never wanted the girls to know the truth about their 'father', but if it came out she would make sure they understood that there was no question of whether or not they were or had been wanted.

The show's host was genial enough and fair in his treatment of the story, but he had had an unpleasant surprise or two for her. He asked about her music and whether her experiences had shaped it. He then played bits from songs she had recorded, both as a drummer and as a singer. Her brief stint with a Christian rock band was brought up as was the memorable collapse of the Rising Stars.

The only single recorded by a promising but short-lived country-western band was dug up from somewhere, and he praised Kara's voice and questioned her taste in music. It hadn't been a bad song, but the overly sappy romantic ballad was, to Kara's way of thinking, slightly embarrassing.

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"You left a few things off your résumé," Jem smiled. Kara just shrugged at the good natured teasing, having expected it.

"You'd be surprised what you're willing to do to avoid starving," she answered in a matter-of-fact one. The others traded odd looks, not having expected that answer. It was a bit dark for their tastes.

"I don't know why you'd be embarrassed," Aja offered, setting aside her thoughts on Kara's words. "You've got a great voice and there's nothing wrong with Country music or Christian Rock."

"The music doesn't embarrass, me," Kara assured her, "nor does my voice, but the songs…" she feigned a shudder. "Way too saccharine."

"Gotta agree with you there," Kimber nodded. The others shot her various disapproving looks, at which Kimber only blinked in confusion. "What? They were. So, Kara, how long did you stay with those groups?"

"July Fourth was a one hit wonder. Offers sort of dried up after that. Nothing else we produced caught on." She thought for a moment, trying to remember the last news she had heard of the small time Christian Rock group. "Eden's Grace is still around," Kara recalled, "but we parted company when they found out I didn't share their faith."

"You're not Christian?"

Kara shook her head. "I tend to believe in what I can see, hear, grab onto. If you want to have faith in something, start with yourself and the people you care about." She sighed in irritation. "It wasn't a point of view that went over well with the bible thumpers."

The others nodded thoughtfully, faith in each other, at least, was a notion they understood, and none of them were terribly religious.

Two weeks passed and not a peep was heard from the Banks family, at which Kara breathed a silent sigh of relief. They might have been bluffing about what they would do if Kara mentioned Harland Banks or what he had done, after all, they had maintained his innocence so had more to lose than she did, but it didn't pay to make things worse between them. She could almost feel her personal rhythm steadying.

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The interview did a lot to settle the press, and they soon found other scandals to occupy them. Kara noted, with some annoyance, that Eric Raymond stayed out of jail, but another group he managed drew attention to themselves with drug charges against two members. That might have been the worst of it, but the incident with Kurtz wasn't the only occasion on which Kara's temper and sharp tongue got the better of her.


	13. Clashing With the Misfits

CH. 13 CLASHING WITH THE MISFITS

By Jenny A.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Let me know how I'm doing. Read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara moved through the service corridor of the convention center quickly, hoping to avoid a few nosy reporters who had extra questions about her appearance on the talk show. Accompanying Jerrica to the expo had been her idea, as some of the exhibits interested her, but she was starting to regret it.

A couple of enterprising reporters had decided that it was a photo op and a good place for an impromptu interview. Exiting the quiet corridor into a currently deserted part of the convention center she made for the exit, having had enough publicity for one day. A flashbulb going off behind her caused her to turn to the camera with a scowl. The scowl was captured in the next picture.

Getting hold of her temper with an effort, Kara sighed and thought through what she should say while the reporter fired questions at her and the photographer took a couple more pictures. "I've said all I intend to on that matter. Do as I have, and put it behind you."

The sound of running feet cut off whatever the reporter might have said next. Kara turned curiously toward the cross corridor ahead. "Stop!" she heard Jerrica shout. "Come back here!" Kara looked around the intersection of the two corridors. A physical confrontation wouldn't go over well in front of the reporter, but Jerrica sounded really stressed. The cross corridor was narrower than the main one they were standing in. Spotting a janitor's cart nearby, she shoved it into the other corridor as the running footsteps drew closer. Kara frowned slightly when she realized that whoever was running from Jerrica wasn't slowing down.

A few seconds later, Jem hit the cart full tilt and went head over heels to land on her back with a loud thud and a pained grunt as the wind was knocked out of her. Kara stared incredulously at what she was seeing, especially the wig that had been knocked askew. She went to check on the woman and noticed something else odd. An odor in the air caught her attention.

She pulled the wig away as the woman moaned, to get a better look at her. The mop of purple hair surprised her, and she ignored the photographer frantically snapping pictures. Seeing what had to be the edge of a fairly elaborate mask, she grasped the edge.

"Jem unmasked," the reporter whispered excitedly as the camera flashed. "What a scoop!"

"Hardly," Kara snorted. "Jem doesn't smell like this, besides," she continued, noting Jerrica running toward them, "Jerrica told me she's out of town today." Jerrica arrived in time to hear Kara's words and see her yank away the mask, much to the prone woman's dismay.

"YAAAA! You bitch, that hurt!" She clasped her hands to her face and tried to roll away, still cursing.

Kara stood up holding the wig and mask. She sniffed at the latter and then held it at arm's length. "What is that smell?" she asked glancing at Jerrica who seemed at a loss for words.

"Spirit gum," the reporter said after taking a sniff and wrinkling his nose. "Actors use it to apply fake hair and such." He had the photographer snap another picture of the woman on the ground. "You're supposed to use a solvent to remove it, not just yank it off."

"Oh," Kara glanced down at the woman on the ground. "Sorry."

"That's Clash," Jerrica finally got out. "She works for the Misfits. What is she doing here? Dressed like Jem?" The other Holograms had caught up by this time, having seen Jerrica running. They gaped at the sight of the wig and mask Kara held.

"Omigosh!" Kimber breathed. "What's going on?"

"So this isn't Jem?" the reporter asked, sounding disappointed.

"No," Kara shook her head. "Anyone would have noticed the smell by now." She held it up to the reporter who wrinkled his nose again and shied away. "I think she overdid it a bit." She turned back to the woman on the ground, her irritation clear in her face and voice. "Clash, is it? I'm guessing this has something to do with the ridiculous rivalry between the groups. I'm not sure what you were trying to do, but I think we'll let the police sort it out." Clash stiffened at that and looked around wildly. "Two things you should remember, Clash," Kara's warning tone stopped her. "One, I don't care about the rivalry. I have no patience for the kind of games your friends like to play. You're a grown woman! Can't you find something productive or at least legal to do with yourself? Two," she spoke louder, as Clash started to get to her feet, "if you make me run, you'll fondly remember the amount of pain you're in now."

Clash paled and sat down on the ground again.

"Smart."

"Kara!" Jerrica stared at her. "You can't threaten her like that! Especially-" she broke off and glanced at the reporter who was taking it all in with a huge grin. Repressing a sigh, she turned back to Kara, but the other woman spoke first.

"It's past time the Misfits started suffering some consequences for the crap they pull," Kara said, turning to face her. "Let the police deal with Clash. I wonder if the Misfits will bail her out?"

"Probably not," Jerrica answered.

Kara just shrugged. "It's a start." She heard the sound of people approaching and turned to find two uniformed security guards coming toward them. Jerrica told them what happened and the guards said they would hold her for the police, but they would all be expected to give statements. Kara nodded, used to that at any rate.

The officers showed up about an hour later and took Clash into custody. One took her to the squad car while the other collected statements from the reporter and the band members. He was evidently a fan of the group, as he apologized when told what had happened and told them that he wasn't sure she could be charged with anything.

Kara shrugged. "Maybe not. Think you could scare the daylights out of her before cutting her loose?"

The officer chuckled a bit at this, and the other Holograms smirked. "I'll see what I can do," he promised. It took the rest of the afternoon to sort it out. In the end, Clash couldn't be charged with anything. She might have been preparing to commit a fraud of some sort, but there was no proof that she had done anything illegal. She did spend several hours in an interrogation room, which secretly pleased the band.

The story made a brief sensation, and Kara took some teasing from the press over her temper, but the matter quickly died down. In the end, the only thing that came of it was that the Misfits were more wary of physical confrontations, which didn't mean there weren't any. Two weeks after that incident, Kara arrived at a club called The Back Room, in West Hollywood, to meet a new group that Starlight Music was looking to sign.

She arrived separately as backup for Jerrica. Eric and Pizzazz, she noted, were already there. The fast but steady rhythm of the place was thrown off by the presence of the two, who seemed to live to spread discord.

The band, Spice, was pretty good, and after their first set, Jerrica moved to make her offer. Eric moved in as well and sent Pizzazz to delay them. "I can get you by her," Kara said quietly, "but it won't be pretty."

"No violence, please," Jerrica told her.

"Not on my part."

Pizzazz stopped in front of them to block her way. "Doing chores for Eric, now?" Kara asked. "Think about this, Pizzazz. Do you really want to start a fight in front of a room full of witnesses?" She nodded to Jerrica. "Go on. Keep Raymond from ruining their careers."

Jerrica started to go around her, but Pizzazz stepped in front of her with a smirk as if she'd just done something intelligent.

"Seriously?" Kara asked. "How old are you? The evidence is confusing. You act like a two-year-old." She glanced at the other woman's chest. "You're built like a 10-year-old." Pizzazz' eyes widened in shock and she rushed at Kara who simply side-stepped. "What a temper," she mocked.

To everyone's surprise, Pizzazz took a deep breath and calmed down. "You're one to talk." She scowled, but didn't attack again. "So you got a rise out of me-"

"It wasn't that hard." She frowned thoughtfully. "You're not stupid, bad temper aside. Why are you here running errands for a jerk like Raymond? You're a talented musician with a great voice and you're here acting as muscle for a common criminal?"

Pizzazz seemed stuck at that. "He's done well by me, and it's not like I need an excuse to give you holo-twerps a hard time."

"Lame excuses don't suit you. Your father could buy and sell Raymond. Your 'manager' would be nothing without the Misfits and he knows it. Yet you let a man with the instincts of a pickpocket lead you into trouble again and again. How many of his dumb ideas have backfired, landing you in hot water?" Kara suspected that the Misfits didn't need Raymond's help in that regard, but there was no need to say that, especially as the other woman was looking thoughtful rather than angry.

"Too many," she finally muttered. "Who needs this?" she snorted, turning toward the door and striding out, head high.

_Easier than I thought_, Kara mused before turning back to see how Jerrica was doing. She had made it to the stage and stood beside Eric, rubbing her ribs where her rival had apparently driven an elbow. The lead guitarist of Spice was eyeing Raymond warily while he made his pitch.

Jerrica interrupted his promises of wealth and glory to offer him an honest, equitable deal.

Eric shot her an annoyed look. "You don't want to deal with her. She's an amateur."

"A professional," Kara noted from in front of the stage, "apparently physically assaults his competition to get ahead."

"Um, look," the lead guitarist said. "We do want a deal, but it's too crazy here to talk business." He nodded at the audience that was already clamoring for more music. He then handed each manager a card. "Call me tomorrow?"

"Hey," Eric spread his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Look, ah,"

"Lee," the spokesman for the group offered. "That's Toby," he indicated the drummer, "and that's Mike." He pointed to the other guitarist.

"Lee," Raymond picked up where he'd left off. "There are lots of bands out there, and I'm a busy man. You wouldn't want to miss an opportunity."

Toby rapped sharply on his drums and Lee glanced at him. "Guy sounds like a used car salesman," the drummer snorted. "We ain't signin' nothin' tonight. If we lose out, we lose out." Lee nodded his agreement.

"Glad to hear you're being cautious," Jerrica nodded with a smile. "Here's my card. We can arrange to meet when you're ready."

Lee took the card and tucked it into his shirt pocket after reading the name. "Thanks, Miss Benton. I'll do that." Jerrica left the stage and Eric withdrew with bad grace.

The two women stayed through another set before calling it a night. "By the way," Jerrica asked as they got into the car, "what did you say to Pizzazz?"

"The truth. That she deserved better than to be treated as hired muscle for a two-bit con artist."

"She believed you?"

"Why shouldn't she?" Kara asked, slightly confused. "It stroked her ego, shifted her anger to where it belonged, Raymond, and it was true." Jerrica looked dubious. "Whatever you think of her, personally, she has skill and better things to do than play bodyguard for that creep."

"She could certainly use the rehearsal time," Jerrica allowed, and let the matter drop.

"You have other things to worry about, don't you?" Kara glanced at her. "Isn't the photo shoot tomorrow?"

Jerrica sighed and shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. The photographer we normally use for the publicity shots is out of town seeing to his sick father. Came up without warning, so we need to delay until we find someone else."

"You need a fashion photographer? I know someone."

"Oh?"

"Jo has taken pictures for fashion magazines before, though it's not a specialty."

"Any good?"

Kara nodded. "Jo takes all kinds of pictures, but people, wearing expensive clothes or not, are a favorite subject."

"Okay. Your friend have a portfolio?" Kara nodded. "In town and available?" Another nod. "I could have Kimber swing by for a look tomorrow; pick up some samples."

"I'll call when we get back. Jo's a night owl." Jerrica nodded, satisfied that they had a potential solution. She'd still need to call around to see if anyone else she was familiar with was available. The rest of the trip back to Starlight Mansion took place in silence.


	14. Friendly Misunderstandings

CH. 14 FRIENDLY MISUNDERSTANDINGS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I'm introducing a new character in this chapter. She'll have a part to play in coming chapters, so let me know if you like the idea or hate it. How big a part should she play? In what way? Your opinion could shape the story.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

At 2:30 the next day, Kara and Kimber pulled up to a small photography studio in Long Beach. The studio wasn't Jo's, she didn't even work there, but she did have access to their darkroom and equipment.

Sherman Murdock owned and operated the portrait studio, but occasionally found it difficult to make ends meet, so he had taken the opportunity to make some extra cash by selling access to his facilities to freelance photographers. For a monthly fee, Jo Russell and three others could make appointments to use the darkroom and borrow equipment as needed.

Although she could and sometimes had to have the film developed by professional services, Jo, like the others who had made the deal with Murdock, preferred to develop her own photos. It was a deal that worked out for everyone despite occasional scheduling conflicts. For this particular meeting, she had arranged to use Murdock's office for an hour. She met them in the front room of the studio where two customers were waiting their turn to have their pictures taken.

Jo, being Jo, greeted Kara with a hug. "Kara, it's been way too long."

"We had dinner last week," Kara reminded her with a slight smile as she returned the hug.

"Way too long," Jo asserted, grinning. She turned to Kimber. "Kimber Benton. It's a pleasure."

"Thanks. I guess you know why we're here." She looked over Jo Russell with a little envy. The woman was beautiful. Honey-blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, and she evidently put a lot of work into keeping in shape. She had an easy, friendly manner, and Kimber immediately warmed to her. "Kara has had a lot of good things to say about you and your work."

"I do my best," Jo nodded and gestured them to follow her back to the office. "Now, I have about a thousand questions about the band and the shows Kara has done with you and everything, but I know how busy you are. I've worked with bands before and the successful ones are always on the move." She gestured to the desk and urged them to take a seat. "I have my portfolio here and there are several of my pictures on the wall of the studio. I occasionally get a discount on rent by filling in for Sherman when he can't be here." She opened her portfolio and displayed a variety of pictures. Flipping to a specific section, she tapped the page. "I have no real specific interest. I like to take all types of pictures. These are the ones you'll be interested in."

Jo had done publicity shoots for some of the bands Kara worked with, and that had gotten her work through friends of theirs who liked what they saw. She had taken a few pictures for fashion magazines, although no big names.

From there, she flipped to the portraits she had done. People of all sorts, some in formal wear, some in casual, smiled at the camera or spoke and laughed with each other. Some wore period costumes as they had been taken for special events. Kimber stopped at one photograph that could have been taken at party in 1880s London. All of her subjects gave the impression of being able to step out of the picture. The lighting, the backgrounds, the clothing, and the overall composition of each photo were carefully balanced.

"These are amazing," Kimber breathed.

"Thank you."

"The others will want to see these, of course," the redhead continued, "but I definitely think you'll be getting work from Starlight Music."

Jo smiled, happy at the news. Kara's call had spurred some hasty preparations and modifications to her portfolio. The opportunity required nothing less than her best showing. "Good to hear it. I'd love the chance to photograph a group of such successful and talented women, and I'm glad Kara has found people she fits with so well."

"Kara's been a great addition to the group," Kimber demurred, blushing a bit. She paused, and then changed the subject. "You said you don't really have a specialty?"

"That's right," Jo nodded. "Some photographers specialize in fashion photos. Others prefer to do nature or landscape photography. Some do strictly portraits. I do a bit of everything. It gives me more opportunity to work." She flipped a couple of pages in the portfolio. "I've taken pictures for fashion magazines. I've photographed weddings and done portraits. I've taken pictures for the local papers. The only thing I refuse to do is paparazzi work. Sneaking up on celebrities or politicians and catching them in embarrassing moments." She shook her head. "Gotta be a lousy way to make a living. Parasites."

Kimber nodded, happy to hear that. She'd had bad experiences with such photographers and wouldn't want to work with one. They spent another 20 minutes chatting about Jo's past jobs and even a few acquaintances they had in common, but soon it was time to go. Jo provided copies of selected photos from her portfolio for Kimber to show the rest of the group and their manager and saw them out.

Jo called Kara back, suddenly remembering something, and Kimber paused near the door to the studio to wait. "There's a new Disney film starting Friday. Want to take the girls to see it on Saturday?"

"I'll be busy," Kara demurred. "The Holograms are playing a benefit that night, but I'm sure they'd love to see the movie with you."

"Okay. Let them know I'll pick them up at 1:00. In the meantime, give them something from me." She kissed Kara on the left cheek. "That one's for Sara." A kiss on the right cheek, "and that one's for Laura."

"I'll try to keep them straight," Kara chuckled. Jo's rhythm was near infectious at such times.

"And this one is for you." She leaned forward to plant one on Kara's lips but the other woman leaned back.

"Rain check?" she said as she usually did when her long-time friend made a pass at her. Jo knew Kara wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with another woman, but she also knew that her best friend wouldn't be offended. It had become a standing joke between them.

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Kimber couldn't hear what they were saying, but she didn't really try. They appeared to be making social plans. Jo leaned forward and kissed Kara's left cheek, then placed another kiss on her right cheek. After another brief exchange of words Jo tried to kiss Kara on the lips, but the drummer leaned back, seeming amused rather than offended.

Kara joined her a moment later. "Time to go. One last stop to make, isn't there?" Kimber nodded distractedly as they made their way to the car.

"We just need to pick up some papers for Jerrica." She fell silent, considering what she'd seen. It had never occurred to her that Kara might be gay, she had kids after all. Then again, she didn't really know anything about Jo either. It could be perfectly innocent.

"What's on your mind?" Kara asked as they got underway, noticing how distracted the redhead was, her personal rhythm a bit off.

"Um… nothing really."

"Try again." Kara frowned slightly as Kimber shot through a yellow light, barely in time.

"It's not really my business," she said after a moment, "but… are you and Jo… a couple?"

Kara gave her friend an appraising look and as she often did when dealing with reporters, considered her words carefully. She didn't want there to be trouble over this for Jo, and she also didn't want to alienate either her old or her new friends. Still, a little fun at Kimber's expense wouldn't hurt. Finally, she shook her head. "No. Jo is just a very good friend. If you're interested in her, go for it."

As she had expected, Kimber turned almost as red as her hair and stammered out a denial. "That's not what… what I… Oh never mind."

"What did you really want to ask me, Kimber?" Kara pressed.

"I-I'm sorry. It's not my business." The keyboardist now seemed embarrassed that she'd even asked.

"No it isn't. All you need to know is that Jo is my best friend and one of the best photographers around. Nothing else really matters." Kimber nodded glumly. After a moment, Kara relented. "I'm sorry. It's a touchy subject. Jo's very open about being gay and she's had trouble because of it." After debating for a second over whether to actually answer Kimber's question, Kara said. "She knows I'm not interested in women. We aren't a couple, but she likes to tease. None of her passes at me have been serious."

Kimber, worried about putting her foot in her mouth, thought carefully about her next words. "I can see why you'd want to defend her, as she's such a good friend."

"I don't need to defend her, and she wouldn't want me to. She's got nothing to be ashamed of, and people who think different aren't worth her time." The only really big fight that she and Jo had ever had had been on that very subject. Kara had tried to protect her friend's reputation when a group of popular girls at high school had learned Jo was gay and started making life difficult. Her intentions had been good, but Jo hadn't been pleased that Kara had tried to brush off the stories as vicious rumors started by those same girls who were obviously jealous of her looks and brains.

Jo had not been happy with her when she found out, and had made it clear she would never hide who she was or want anyone else to do so for her. Kara hadn't understood at first, but when she did, she apologized sincerely, and Jo's example had helped her deal with all those that looked down on her when she was pregnant with the twins and later when she was fighting to keep them. She owed Jo a lot and would help her where she could, even if that meant standing aside and doing nothing.

In some ways, Kara reflected, as Kimber wove her way through L.A. traffic, her life would be simpler if she _were_ attracted to Jo. The older woman, two years her senior, was strong willed, intelligent, and loyal. She had a wicked sense of humor, and she adored the twins. _Where can I find a guy like that?_


	15. Developing Relationships

CH. 15 DEVELOPING RELATIONSHIPS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I've rearranged a few events and episodes and ignored others entirely because they didn't fit the storyline I'm trying to develop or I just thought they were silly. I'm posting an extra long chapter for July 4. Hope you enjoy it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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"And look right….hold." The flash went off three times. "Face me and think about your first crush." Jem smiled, a wistful expression touching her face. "Good. Lean shoulder against the wall and look over my left shoulder. One, two… Eric Raymond." Jem's jaw clenched slightly as her expression hardened. "Good. Look straight at me. One, two…" It had taken a little time to get used to Jo's way of doing things, but Jem had to admit that the photographer knew how to evoke reactions from her subjects. Letting herself go, letting her emotional responses to these cues show openly hadn't been easy at first, but she'd gotten the idea and the Holograms seemed to take to it well.

The stimuli varied based on the individual, but she always seemed to know what to pick to get a desired response. It was, Jem had to admit, remarkable, and it was a bit frightening how insightful the woman could be.

Jo turned to face Kimber. "One, two… Sean Harrison." The grin threatened to split Kimber's face. "Look left. One, two… chocolate ice cream." Kimber actually giggled a bit as she suddenly thought of her favorite food.

This went on for a time. Each of them received the treatment several times. It took several takes, sometimes, to get the reaction she wanted for everyone except Kara. The drummer, used to this apparently, didn't try to hold back her reactions. Her expression changed, sometimes in dramatic ways, and the camera caught each expression precisely. They watched Kara's reaction to names, flavors, favorite movies, and more. She was more general with the others, relying on questions she'd asked beforehand and generalities. Kimber's involvement with Harrison had been all over the gossip sheets. As had the fact that Cheyna was dating famous director, Anthony Julian. For the others, she had to be less specific and sometimes it took several tries to get the reaction she wanted.

Finally, it was over and the members of the group sprawled on couches around the studio, exhausted. "That was different," Aja remarked, as she leaned her head back.

"Very effective, though," Jem answered. The others nodded.

Kimber smirked at Kara. "She was definitely flirting with you during the shoot."

Kara shook her head. "She's a thorough professional on the job. We just know each other really well. Jo knows how to get a reaction out of me and… she doesn't mind embarrassing me a bit to get it."

"Like I said," Kimber giggled, "flirting." Kara had apologized for snapping at Kimber, but the redhead still enjoyed a little payback. The drummer just shrugged it off. The beat was steady and Kara knew no harm was meant.

The others watched this exchange curiously, but then, let it go.

"If the pictures come out as well as those in her portfolio, she'll definitely have the job," Jem told Kara. "Think she'll be able to travel? We've got that tour coming up next month and we'll need publicity shots on site."

"I'll ask her to check her schedule, but she should be able to manage that. Don't we have that concert in New Orleans coming up?" Kara asked, trying to recall the details while fighting a yawn.

"Yeah," Cheyna nodded, "in three months at Mardi Gras. We'll be staying at a hotel called Maison Fleur. It's supposed to be a great place, a converted mansion with beautiful rooms."

"Sounds like a good time," Kara nodded, "and I've heard New Orleans is beautiful."

"We're supposed to be wearing some outrageous jewelry too," Kimber enthused. "Part of Jean Laffite's treasure. They haven't been on display in years."

Kara started to answer but was cut off by another yawn.

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There was quite a bit of drama between then and the New Orleans trip. Kimber briefly left the group which made a noticeable and unpleasant difference in the group's sound. Kara tried to be supportive, but didn't feel she knew the others well enough to get too involved in their internal troubles, especially as it was primarily a squabble between sisters.

While gone, Kimber and Stormer, who had quit the Misfits, cut an album together. The music was good and the rhythm the two developed was impressive. They really worked well together as far as Kara could tell. The album was a huge success and everyone was soon back where they belonged. Kara watched it all with interest while expecting that the sisters would work it out eventually.

Not long after Kimber came back, Jem managed to get herself kidnapped by a fan. Kara wasn't invited along on the rescue mission as she wasn't there at the time. When told about the scene after the fact, Kara could only shake her head, and express the opinion that fame hardly seemed worth the trouble some or even most days. The others had to agree to an extent, but promised that Kara would see the upside of being famous soon enough.

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She certainly didn't see it over the next few weeks as Fathers' Day came and went. There was quite a lot of fuss over a concert in Video Montgomery's home town. Jerrica kept putting pressure on Kimber to write a special song for the event, but her sister refused repeatedly.

Aja and Cheyna had both known and adored Jerrica and Kimber's late father, and while they didn't pressure Kimber the way Jerrica did, it was plain they were as confused and angry as Jerrica. Kara took no part in the discussion.

Strangely, it was Kara that Kimber looked to for support. "You're the only one not pressuring me to write some stupid Fathers' Day song," she pouted.

"Do you want me to?"

"Er…no. That's actually a good thing." She gave a mock pout. "You're teasing me."

Kara allowed a smile. "So easy, it's hard to resist."

"Funny," Kimber grumped, but she didn't walk away.

"I never knew your father," Kara said more seriously. "Aja and Cheyna are different. They loved him like he was their own."

"Y-yeah. I know."

"I'm just saying it's not my place. I'm not adding pressure one way or the other."

"I appreciate that." Kimber watched her closely out of the corner of her eye as Kara returned to reviewing some of the girls' math homework. "What about your own father? Is Fathers' Day a big deal for you?"

Kara was silent for a moment, and Kimber frowned a bit nervously. When Kara paused like that, it was because she was thinking of what to say or as often as not, what not to say. It was a good thing when she paused before answering a reporter's question, but when she did it during private conversations it always made Kimber a bit nervous, wondering what the other woman was holding back. Finally, Kara sighed. "My father died when I was five. I barely remember him. As you know, my girls don't have one, so no. Fathers' Day is just another day for me."

"That's…kind of sad," Kimber offered after a moment.

"I suppose," she answered absently, her attention still on the homework. "Since when is two times six 21?" Kimber decided to leave her to it and got up to go. Kara glanced up after a moment and allowed herself a slight scowl. She did have memories of her father, much as she hated to be reminded of it. Kara remembered a strong, smiling man lifting her up over his head and laughing as she waved her arms. She remembered the sound of his voice as he read her stories at bedtime. No specific words or stories, just the rich soothing rumble that had lulled her to sleep.

And she remembered the hospital. She remembered seeing a pale, emaciated man, barely recognizable, clinging to life. The sight had terrified her and the hospital staff had refused to let her near his room after that one visit. It was her last memory of her father, and there was no chance she would share it with Kimber, or anyone for that matter.

Jerrica took the rest of the group to an old ranch the girls had liked to visit when they were young, hoping to inspire Kimber. Kara had bowed out, and Jerrica hadn't pressed the issue. When they called from the ranch declaring that the song was finished, and that the group was hopping a plane, Kara informed them that Mrs. Bailey, their housekeeper, had just rushed to the hospital to see to her sick sister, leaving Kara to watch after the Starlight girls.

"So you're stuck?" Jerrica asked. Then she considered. "Even the older girls aren't old enough to be on their own and watch after the youngest."

"There's no time to find someone else and still make the flight," Kara said, consulting the clock. "You'll do fine without me." Jerrica had reluctantly agreed and the group had gone without her. She heard the details later.

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The final weeks leading up to the trip were busy for the group, although things were made a bit easier as they no longer had to hide Synergy from Kara. Costume changes became quick and easy, although using that method was limited to emergencies. Doing things the normal way kept them from becoming dependent and lazy, and the computer was rarely called on unless there was literally no other way to get it done. It had already been established that Jem did her own makeup in private, so excuses and explanations had already been arranged for most situations. Kara rarely commented on Jem's secret and seemed content to take the group's lead in most things regarding it. She did ask a few technical questions about the holograms themselves, not understanding the limitations of the tech. The others made sure she knew the range and limitations, in order to avoid any problems.

She also asked why Rio, Jerrica's boyfriend, hadn't been told. Given the strange situation that had developed between him, Jerrica, and Jem it seemed logical to tell him. Jerrica didn't have a good answer for that, and Kara let it drop. It wasn't her secret and it wasn't, she decided, her place to comment.

Her own interaction with Rio gave her a clue as to why she hesitated, though. The man was incredibly stubborn and despised deception of any sort. Kara agreed on some levels. It never really paid off in the end to perpetuate a lie, but he seemed to take it to extremes, and given his temper, extremes could be unpleasant.

"Lie by omission?" Kara asked, one afternoon after he'd commented on her support for Jem's secrecy. They were working in the practice room. Kara was cleaning the instruments while Rio gave Kimber's synthesizer a tune up. "She doesn't like sharing her personal life with others. This makes her a liar?"

"It would be easier, you must admit," he began.

"I agree that lying usually causes more problems than it solves, but I think you're being too harsh. Her privacy isn't hurting anyone." It was a bit surprising to her that Rio obsessed as he did over Jem if he found her secrecy so offensive. She was rather proud of herself for not asking him that straight out. The way he sniffed after both Jem and Jerrica was almost funny at times, but it caused its share of problems.

"I don't mind her keeping private things private," Rio shook his head. "I just don't like being lied to."

"So there's no good reason to lie? Ever?"

Rio shrugged. "I can't think of one."

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Kara was passing Synergy's hiding place when she heard voices through the 'wall' that hid the room. She recognized Jerrica and Rio, and both sounded upset. Looking around to see that no one was nearby, she ducked in just in time to see Rio fade out in a shimmer of light that she had come to associate with Synergy's holograms.

"What is going on in here?" she asked.

Jerrica turned to her, startled, even as she wiped tears from her eyes. "I-I was doing a test… to see how Rio would react if I told him."

"My predictions could be wrong, Jerrica," Synergy offered.

"You do realize I heard you from the hall as I was passing by?" Kara said. "Anyone could have been walking by, including Rio." Jerrica looked scared at the idea. Kara steered her toward the room's sofa and the two sat, turned so they could face each other. Kara used the time to think of a possible solution to her friend's problem. "If you're going to do a test," she offered after a moment's thought, "why not try telling him different ways? You just blurted it out with no preparation."

"A valid point," Synergy agreed.

"What would you suggest?" Jerrica asked, hoping the other woman had an idea that would allow her to tell her boyfriend the truth without losing him.

"You could start by telling him about Synergy," Kara suggested after a bit of thought. "Help him understand why she has to be kept a secret."

"Tell him about Synergy?" Jerrica looked doubtful.

"You just simulated changing in front of him. How were you going to explain the light show and the instant makeover? Fairy dust?"

"You…have a point," Jerrica admitted sheepishly. "I guess I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"I don't particularly like deception either, Jerrica, but some secrets are better kept if they keep people safe. I think even Rio could accept that, hard-headed as he is."

"Come on," Jerrica protested. "Rio is not-" She broke off. "Okay, he is stubborn, but it's really one of his best qualities."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Jerrica's jaw worked silently for a few seconds, but eventually she stopped and just shook her head. "Okay," she chuckled. "That didn't come out quite right." She considered her next words carefully. "Rio is one of the most honorable people I know. He has…a very strong sense of right and wrong. He's loyal and honest and brave and completely dependable."

"Fine qualities," Kara allowed, "but it doesn't sound like he's much tolerance for… gray areas."

"No," she sighed. "He doesn't. I-I'll think about your suggestion. That probably would be the best way to tell him, to make him see that it was necessary. Then…" she trailed off. Kara thought she was likely trying to imagine how the revelation that she was Jem would go over even if he did accept the need to keep Synergy secret. "I'll think about it."

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Kimber ran passed Kara looking very worried, and Kara followed, wondering what had the redhead so flustered. She had almost reached the room Kimber had ducked into when there was a loud crash and a scream from her friend. Kara rushed in to find the picture window broken and two men fighting on the lawn while Kimber begged them to stop.

Apparently the hard fall and broken glass were more convincing than she was as the two got to their feet carefully, still eyeing each other angrily but not fighting anymore.

"What's the idea, Kimber?" one of them demanded.

"I-I sort of forgot I made the same date twice," she admitted as Kara finished carefully climbing out the window.

"You can sort of forget me, then," he growled, turning to go.

"Same here," the other agreed also storming off.

"Oh don't go!" she called after them as Kara jumped down to the lawn, marveling at her friend's flightiness.

"You forgot you made the same date with two guys? What goes through your head, girl?"

"Kimber." Rio was suddenly in front of her, grabbing her arm and scowling angrily. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You made fools of them. You deceived them and lied to them!"

"B-but I can explain!"

"I hate deception and I despise liars," he practically growled. "It would serve you right if they never spoke to you again!" Kimber burst into tears and rushed off.

"Rio!" Jerrica stared at her boyfriend in disbelief, even as Kara marveled at how accurate Synergy's prediction had been. _Word for word_, she thought, stunned for a moment, before her anger kicked in. "That was cruel!"

"And he's going to apologize," Kara assured her, as she stepped into Rio's personal space. "Now."

"Why should I apologize?" he asked taking a step back in surprise. "I can't help the way I feel."

"Your feelings aren't the issue," Kara snapped. "Your hearing is. Kimber didn't lie to them. She made a mistake, forgot she'd made the same date twice. Silly? Yes. Deceitful? No."

"But she-"

"You know Kimber better than that!" Jerrica broke in. "Do you honestly think she set out to hurt anyone? She just forgot…which granted is…" She trailed off, at a loss for words. Her sister could be an airhead at time, but this had to set some kind of record.

"You're going to find her and apologize," Kara picked up when Jerrica stopped.

"Jerrica and I were in the middle of a conversation," he started.

"You're gonna be in the middle of a hornets' nest if you don't go, now. How many women are there in the mansion?" He looked confused at the question. "How many do you think are going to take her side when they hear about this?"

Stubborn he might be, but Rio wasn't stupid. He turned away and left to find Kimber. Kara stared after him, honestly not knowing what to make of the man. She wasn't sure he really understood that he'd been in the wrong, but as long as he honestly regretted upsetting Kimber, she supposed it didn't matter. She turned to Jerrica.

"Are you okay?"

Jerrica stared after Rio, looking torn between anger and tears. "I can't tell him," she concluded, her voice a pained whisper. "Ever." She began to cry and turned away. Kara let her go. Nothing she could have said would help at that point even if she'd had some idea of what to say.

Jerrica might eventually reconsider, but Kara though it would probably take a while. The passage of time wouldn't make the secret any easier to share. It would probably make matters worse, but Kara decided to step back from the mess if she could. Let Jerrica and Rio and… Jem sort it out themselves.

_All I can do is be a friend, be supportive_, Kara concluded, _whatever they decide_. In the meantime, she suspected things would get back to normal soon enough. Everyone would make up and get back to their usual, bizarre but steady rhythm.

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After seeing what Jo could do with a camera, she quickly became a favorite with the group. She handled publicity pictures for concerts and fashion shoots for new outfits. More importantly, she made contacts. Others saw her work and asked after her.

She preferred work with the Holograms, though. Kimber knew why, and after she got over some initial discomfort at the idea, she found Jo's flirting rather cute. She normally kept it light, but Kimber noticed that Jo was always happiest when Kara was around.

The others noticed too. Kimber had said nothing to them, deciding it was Jo's personal business, but the others realized something was going on. Jo would often take the twins with her on outings when Kara could not, and was on the list at the school the girls were to attend as authorized to pick them up in case of an emergency. The initial assumption was that the two regarded each other as sisters, but Kimber, more than the others, noticed the way Jo would sometimes look sadly at their drummer and sigh regretfully.

Such incidents didn't draw the attention of the group as much as Jo's unwavering support and the times when the photographer would bail her out of the trouble that her temper and sharp tongue would sometimes land her in.

A week before the scheduled trip, the Holograms were invited to a party. Jem and the rest went, but Jerrica had begged off with too much work to do. Anthony Julian had gotten them the invitations. He was directing a new movie adapted from a book published by Harvey Gabore's publishing company. Since Harvey Gabore was a principle in the deal, his daughter and the rest of the Misfits were present. They were surprisingly quiet, though, and the two bands avoided each other. Jo had been invited to, as she had taken publicity shots for the movie, including two that were made into posters.

Kara had chosen a forest green high-necked dress. Her shoulders and arms were left bare, but the tight green, knee length dress hid everything below her collarbone. She'd laid on a little extra hairspray to help keep her hair in place and seemed to be enjoying the evening. Not even Lindsay Pierce wandering the party with her cameraman disrupted the pleasant rhythm of the event.

Half-an-hour into the party, Kimber called her over to meet Harvey Gabore. They were standing near the refreshments table when Kara joined them. "This is Harvey Gabore. Mr. Gabore, this is Kara Mistral, our drummer."

"A pleasure," he nodded politely.

Kimber told her how they had met on Fathers' Day. "I finally finished the song, but there was no time to get there, not on a commercial flight anyway." Kara listened to the story, curious at first, but the polite smile faded as a picture came together for her. Kimber seemed oblivious to her mood. "…of course, Pizzazz wasn't happy about it. She completely overreacted."

"Overreacted?" Kara asked. She turned to face Gabore directly; the beat was growing more forceful, but was still steady. "So, you told your daughter you couldn't spend time with her on Fathers' Day because you had business. The next time she sees you, on Father's Day, you're walking off a borrowed Concord jet, having set aside your business to do a favor for her biggest professional rival." Kimber gasped, a look of comprehension crossing her face.

"I-I didn't think about it like that," she admitted sheepishly. She glanced at Gabore who was glancing between the two. "Is she still mad at you?"

"Phyllis is always mad," he said dismissively. "What does her childish behavior have to do with helping you?"

Kimber could only stare at him for a moment, having no idea how to respond to that. Kara traded her slight frown for a cold glare. "You can try to explain it to him, if you want, Kimber," Kara almost growled, "but I think you'll be wasting your breath." She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving a startled Kimber and an indignant Harvey Gabore behind. Neither noticed an uncharacteristically quiet Pizzazz watching the entire incident, or a smiling Lindsay Pierce making sure that her cameraman caught the whole thing.

One person did see all of it, though, and she deftly hit the eject button on the camera and snatched the tape as soon as Pierce and her cameraman were distracted. Moving between Harvey and his daughter, who was on the verge of losing her temper completely, Jo smiled at both. "Great party, huh? So much drama." She held up the tape while her back was to Pierce. "But some things should be kept private." She tossed the tape into the punch bowl and turned to Pizzazz. "You're talking to the wrong person if you want to know what that was about."

Pizzazz looked thoughtful for a moment, glancing from Jo to the punch bowl, and grinned when she heard an indignant 'hey!' from the cameraman on discovering the theft. "Good one," she admitted before following Kara. She didn't even glance back at her father, so she missed the pained look on his face, as a realization hit him.

Pizzazz found Kara staring out at the mansion's expansive garden, well away from the party. There was a look on her face that might have made some people pause. She leaned on an ornamental railing next to the younger woman. After a moment's silence, she said. "I know why I'm mad at him. Why are you?"

Kara took a moment to answer, and Pizzazz was about to ask again, less politely, when she said, "he reminded me of someone I don't like to think about." She turned her head and met the older woman's curious gaze. "When you saw him get off that plane what did you feel?" Pizzazz didn't answer. "For just a few seconds, before the anger kicked in, you felt like you couldn't breathe, like you'd been kicked in the gut."

Pizzazz almost denied it, laughed at her and walked away, but the look on her face made Phyllis Gabore pause. Eventually, she just said, "voice of experience?"

"When you're little," Kara said slowly, "and you don't have the anger to call on to push it away… that feeling can last a long, long time." She turned back toward the garden, not knowing, or particularly caring how Pizzazz would react. There was really no good reason to tell the volatile rocker as much as she had, but it seemed only fair to offer some explanation for her behavior inside. Her father wouldn't be getting that much, nor would Kimber. Pizzazz' next words surprised her.

"Yeah. Yeah, it can." They watched the garden quietly for a time, neither speaking.

"I think that's enough sharing crap for a decade or so."

"At least," Pizzazz snorted. She turned away, but Kara had one more thing to say.

"He was thoughtless, not malicious. He wasn't trying to hurt you and he didn't gain anything by it. Just… remember that."

The green haired woman was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, okay."

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"What was that all about?" Kimber asked after the party as the Holograms headed back to the mansion. Jem spared a glance Kimber before looking back to the road.

Kara shook her head. "Not important."

"Mr. Gabore was pretty upset."

"So was Pizzazz," Kara answered, flatly. Her time in the garden had done a lot to soothe her nerves and reestablish her personal rhythm. This conversation, she promised herself, would not disrupt that. "We talked it out. I don't owe her father anything."

"What exactly are you two talking about?" Jem asked. "Did something happen?"

"I told Kara about last Father's Day when we ran into Mr. Gabore at the party. She sided with Pizzazz on that. Got pretty angry."

"He still hasn't figured out why she's mad at him," Kara commented.

Kimber winced. "Yeah… Okay, I see why she got mad. Her dad said he couldn't spend Father's Day with her because he was too busy with business, then he shows up with us. I get it, but she still acted like a spoiled brat." Kara only shrugged, and after a moment, Kimber let it drop. The others decided not to comment.


	16. A Meeting of Consequence or Not

CH. 16 A MEETING OF CONSEQUENCE...OR NOT

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Pizzazz proved less troublesome for a time, after that night, at least she was less inclined to start trouble with Kara. Then, they found out that the Misfits were going to be throwing a concert of their own in New Orleans. "Are they stalking us?" Kara asked when she heard.

"Seems that way," Jem sighed. "They turned up in China, Morvania, New York… It's a bit disturbing." She frowned, thinking about that. It went a bit beyond normal competition, she thought worriedly.

"Think they'll cause trouble?" Kara asked, practical as ever.

"They always do," Jem shrugged, deciding there was nothing to really be done about it. "We leave tomorrow. Are you ready?" Kara nodded. "All we can really do is keep our eyes open. Hopefully, they'll just try to upstage us by having a concert in the same city. We may not even see them."

"Here's hoping," Kara shrugged. "One more rehearsal tonight?"

"Actually, we've got a guest coming over. Countess Danielle DuVoisin wants to introduce us to her new protégé. A young designer she discovered in Paris."

"Should be interesting," Kara allowed.

"She'll be here in about an hour. Let's get the girls squared away first."

Kara didn't bother to reply as she followed Jem into the mansion. As she suspected, getting the girls 'squared away' would be harder than anticipated.

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The Countess smiled at Kimber as she came through the door. "Cher, it is so good to see you again." She made way for a younger woman who smiled shyly at Kimber and the Countess made the introductions. "This is Regine. She is the one I told you all about over the phone."

"It's nice to meet you Regine," Kimber smiled. "We're just getting the kids put to bed… or trying to," she said with a bit of exasperation as running feet could be heard coming down the hallway. Two young voices shouting in French caught the Countess' attention and she turned to see two blonde girls run out of the hallway laughing and calling to each other. Paying no attention to the shout from Kimber, they ran by without pause, calling out some odd sounding rhyme in their mother's first language.

Kimber sighed. "Do I even want to know what they were saying?"

Regine was trying hard not to laugh and even the Countess smiled. "It is just a children's game," the Countess assured her. "I enjoyed playing myself when I was a little girl." She looked quizzically at Kimber. "Where did two American children learn it, though?"

"From their mother, I'd guess," Kimber shrugged, then smiled as she realized something. "Come on, you haven't met her yet." The two women allowed themselves to be guided to the dining room. They found Kara setting out some food.

"Kara," Kimber began without preamble, "the twins are running amok."

"I know. That's what this is for."

The other three women watched curiously as she went to the door and stepped out into the hall. There was a piercing whistle that startled them and a few moments later, Kara came back in with five girls in tow, her own twins as well as Ashley, Ba Nee, and Deirdre.

"Impressive," Regine said to the Countess in a low voice, causing her boss to chuckle. The girls sat down on one side of the table and Kara dished up the snacks she'd prepared. The five girls dug in with enthusiasm.

"This is delicious!" Ashley stopped long enough to comment. "What's in it?"

"Animal tranquilizers," Kara answered easily, causing Deirdre to pause with a forkful just entering her mouth. Then she huffed indignantly and kept eating. The twins shared a mischievous look that only the adults standing across the table saw, before dramatically rolling their eyes and falling forward into their near empty plates. They began making exaggerated snoring sounds, startling the other three girls.

Regine smothered a laugh just as Jerrica, Aja, and Cheyna came in. "Do I want to know?" Jerrica asked, taking in the scene.

"Probably not," Ashley said eyeing the twins.

Kara leaned across the table and tapped both her girls on the head. "Okay, you two. Teeth, pajamas, then bed."

"Yes, mommy," Sarah sat up with a bit of macaroon still stuck to her face and got to her feet, plucking the sweet off of her cheek and popping it into her mouth.

"Night, mommy," Laura said, following her sister as she headed for the door.

"Wash your faces," Kara called after them.

"Go on you three," Jerrica nodded to the other girls.

"Can we finish first?" Deirdre asked. "This is good."

"Okay, but don't take too long, and clean up after yourselves."

The girls nodded their agreement as the band's manager turned to the Countess. "Sorry, Countess, we're a bit disorganized, tonight."

"Not at all," the Countess smiled. Then she turned to Kara, "and this must be your new drummer. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"A pleasure to meet you, Countess," Kara answered in the French she'd worked hard to maintain.

DuVoisin smiled in delighted surprise and answered in her native tongue. After a brief exchange, they switched back to English for the sake of the others. "I am surprised to find an American who speaks French so well."

"I was born in Marseilles and made an effort not to lose the language," Kara responded. "I taught my girls, of course."

"Oh! I love Marseilles!" Regine enthused. "My family has a summer home there. Beautiful city."

At Jerrica's urging, the group moved into the living room where they could be more comfortable and continue their talk before excusing herself to fetch Jem. The Countess quickly got down to business once the lead singer arrived, telling them that she wanted Regine to design a new look for the group, something bold and original. It would be one of the young designer's greatest challenges to date.

"It would be a great honor," Regine enthused. "Just looking at you together gives me ideas. Your skin and hair along with what you've done and not done in the past…" She broke off considering. She rose from her seat and circled the group. "A more daring look, perhaps? Kara, you are a great beauty, but your outfits are so very conservative." She stopped behind the drummer. "Perhaps something to show your figure to better advantage. Leave the shoulders bare and a bit more formfitting."

"That won't work for me," Kara started to explain as the three Starlight girls passed through the room to say goodnight. Regine overrode her objection before she could finish it.

"And we must show more of that lovely face!" Before Kara could object, Regine pulled her hair away from her face, repositioning the braid behind her head. She didn't notice the piece of stiff cloth that she had pulled away with the hair. "She _is_ a great beauty, no?"

Ashley, Ba Nee, and Deirdre gaped, the youngest looking a little green at the sight, before they fled from the room. The Countess gasped, but managed not to look away.

"Regine!" she snapped, "please! Let go of her hair. T-that is rude." She met Kara's eye with an effort. "She is impulsive. I-I am sorry."

Kara, with forced calm, reclaimed her hair as Regine sputtered an apology. Carefully repositioning the eye patch and her hair, she rose and addressed the speechless group. "I think I'll go see to the girls." She glanced at Jem. "You know my tastes and my wardrobe limitations. Whatever you like is fine." She walked out of the room, without turning to face Regine or acknowledging her in any way.

Kara knew she should stay and try and reassure the young woman, but after seeing the looks on the girls' faces and the way they rushed from the room, as well as the Countess' reaction, she couldn't bring herself to do so. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, and didn't know what she'd say or do if she stayed, so she walked away.

Countess DuVoisin was terribly embarrassed, and spoke harshly to Regine about her manners, without ever touching on what she'd seen. Jem did her best to smooth things over, and assured her that Kara wasn't too upset.

She sought out Kara later that night, finding her in her room, staring moodily at the mirror as she brushed her hair. Kara spoke first. "I'm sorry. That was…petty of me."

"Petty?" Jerrica echoed. "Not sure that's the word I'd use, but you've nothing to apologize for." She picked up on Kara's mood. "Try not to be too angry with her."

"I'm not angry with Regine…not much. I'm angry with myself. I should be used to reactions like that," Kara sighed, "but the look on their faces…" She was silent for a moment. "I tell myself I'm not vain and that I hide the scars just to avoid being gawked at and pitied, but I…I'm getting to like the attention. Regine isn't the only one who's called me a great beauty."

"You are," Jerrica told her. "The scars don't change that."

"I think that might be a minority opinion," Kara offered ruefully. "It shouldn't bother me, but it does." She shook her head, irritated with herself. "I should have reacted better to Regine. Walking out like that… I can't imagine what she's thinking." That too irritated her. Kara wasn't used to caring what anyone, least of all a stranger, thought of her.

"Don't worry about it," Jerrica assured her. "The Countess understands your reaction, I'm sure she'll be discreet." After a moment, she broached what she knew was a sensitive topic. "You know, you're making good money now, with not many expenses. Might be worth considering…."

"Getting rid of the scars?" Kara finished when the older woman broke off. "I… It's not that easy. I can't really think of a good reason not to, but…" Her annoyance with her own behavior grew. "I've been thinking about it. I'm not sure why I'm waiting." She had considered it, but was reluctant for a reason she didn't understand. Some might have at least spoken to a doctor, learned what was possible, but Kara was not one for half-measures. Until she understood her own hesitation, she would not start down that road.

"It's your choice," Jerrica assured her, unaware of what was going through Kara's mind. "Take as much time as you need, and don't worry about the Countess and Regine. I already smoothed things over as best I could."

"Thank you," Kara nodded. "You shouldn't have had to, though."

"I think we all understand your reaction. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"All right," Kara said in a tone Jerrica couldn't interpret. She somehow doubted, though, that her new friend would just put it behind her like that. There was still so much to learn about the group's drummer; complicated seemed an understatement. She watched as Kara rose from the dressing table and headed for the door.

"I'd better go check on the twins. Make sure they're actually sleeping."


	17. New Orleans

CH. 17 NEW ORLEANS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I liked the episode, so I knew I'd include it, but then I found the chapter going in an entirely different direction. Read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Cheyna smiled at the sight of Maison Fleur. "I love this place already," she told Kara; "grand old style, the smell of magnolias." The others murmured agreement, but Kara said nothing, reviewing in her mind the plans they'd made for the trip. They'd barely have time to drop their bags in their rooms before posing for publicity shots and singing a song or two for the press and an audience of hotel guests. After that, it would be a visit to some of New Orleans' trendiest night spots where they could be seen enjoying the city's charms. They'd be lucky if they got to bed by 2:00 AM. _Good thing I caught a nap on the plane from L.A_.

The old woman who greeted them at the door and led them inside introduced herself as Madame Yvette. "It is so good to have you all here," she took Jem's hand in hers and smiled warmly before turning to greet each in turn. "I have everything set up." She had two of her employees get their bags for them while they posed for pictures.

Their welcome to the old hotel was captured from a dozen angles. Jo moved around them as unobtrusively as possible while other, local, photographers clamored for attention and jockeyed for position to get the best shots. Kara tried to ignore the fuss and simply act natural as she moved to examine some portraits along one wall, including one of Jean Lafitte. Camera's clicked and flashed around her, taking in her reaction to the old hotel's decor.

Kimber pointed out an old painting of a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Cheyna. Yvette smiled at the portrait and told them the story of her ancestor, Lily Larouche and the pirate, Jean Lafitte.

The tale of unrequited love seemed to move Kimber in a way Kara didn't understand, though she listened politely without comment. The talk of pirates and slavers and war hardly seemed romantic to her, then again, Jo had often said her friend didn't have a romantic bone in her body, so it was possible, the drummer allowed, that she was missing something. It didn't require her usual self-control to keep those thoughts to herself.

Kara turned to face the cameras again as Madame Yvette finished her tale and missed the painting behind her moving. Several pictures were snapped, and an amused looking reporter asked her how she liked Maison Fleur.

"It's very pretty," she allowed, distracted as the air suddenly seemed to thicken. "I think it's getting a bit stuffy in here, though. I-" she felt something touch her shoulder and spun, much to the amusement of the reporters, to find a monkey standing on the table beneath Lafitte's Portrait, chattering happily at her.

"Francois!" A man in a tuxedo rushed over; alarmed by the way Kara was backing away from the small primate. "There's no need to worry, miss. Francois wouldn't hu-" he stopped in his tracks as Kara dropped to her knees, clutching her throat and wheezing.

"Kara!" The cry attracted the attention of the entire room, as Jo rushed to her side. "Get that monkey out of here," she barked. "Kara's allergic." She turned to the crowd as the monkey was hastily removed. "Is there a doctor in the house?"

Jem was moving toward the disturbance, unsure what was happening, when she saw the man she had heard Madame Yvette address as Maurice hurrying away with a monkey of all things. Shelving that for later consideration, she moved to Kara's side. "What happened?"

The rest of the group arrived to find Kara on the floor, trying to breathe and failing. A man in a suit was kneeling next to her, trying to examine her. "Don't worry," the man said. "I'm a doctor." He brushed her hair out of his way and consequently, out of her face. Several cameras flashed and Jem set to work forcing the reporters back so the doctor could work. He barely glanced at her scars, and focused on her neck.

Jo moved aside for him and glanced at the band which was looking confused and worried. "We took the twins to the zoo for their fifth birthday," she told them. "Everything was fine till Kara got close to the monkey house and her sinuses started to close up." She cast a worried glance at her oldest friend. "I didn't know it was this bad, though."

"Call an ambulance," the doctor barked. "She's suffering a severe allergic reaction. Her airway is swollen shut." He gave a series of orders and called for several items from the hotel's kitchen, not having anything with him that would help. With the proper equipment, he would have been able to intubate her and get her breathing properly, but he didn't have it. He also couldn't be sure she'd last till the ambulance arrived.

Working quickly but carefully, he sterilized her neck and the sharpest knife that could be found before performing an emergency tracheotomy while Jo and Aja held her still. The rest of the group tried to keep the reporters at bay. Several of them still tried to get pictures until Jo threatened violence.

The doctor soon had her breathing almost normally through a drinking straw. Jo concentrated on keeping Kara still and calm, resisting the urge to physically attack those taking pictures. Scared as she was for Kara, she still spared a thought for the fact that her friend would not be happy to see her scars on the front page of Cool Trash.

The ambulance arrived a few minutes after the procedure was complete and Kara was breathing again. The paramedics took over and rushed her to the hospital. Jo went along with her. She stayed in the back corner watching anxiously as the paramedic worked to bring down the swelling and alleviate the other symptoms.

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Kara awoke, for the third time in her life, in a hospital with no immediate idea of why she was there. She tried to sit up, only to discover she was affectively tethered to the bed. There was a tube in her arm and another at her throat. That one, she seemed to be breathing through. Not liking the feel of being trapped, she began pulling at the tubes, but a pair of strong hands grabbed her wrists and held her firmly.

"Take it easy. You're okay." Jo assured her. "Relax."

Kara looked at her incredulously, but tried to get her breathing under control. "What happened?" she croaked out.

"There was a monkey running loose at the hotel. He seemed to take a liking to you." Kara gave her a look that conveyed her opinion more eloquently than anything she could have said at that point. "Sorry. The monkey was supposed to be locked up, but he got out somehow and went exploring. You had a severe reaction to him when he decided to introduce himself. There was a doctor on the scene, and he had to do a tracheotomy to get you breathing." Kara raised a hand to her neck and tried to speak.

"You'll be fine," Jo assured her. "You're having trouble talking because of the emergency surgery, but you'll be fine. Don't try to talk now, okay? You've been out all night most of the day and really had us worried. The doctor at the hotel used a butcher knife and a straw for the tracheotomy."

Kara's eye widened at the news. Jo put a hand on her chest to hold her down.

"It might have been best if you'd waited to tell her that," a voice from the door sighed. A doctor entered the room and looked at her chart before checking her vitals. "And incidentally, he used a fillet knife; much thinner blade," the doctor added absently, "a lot less trauma to the surrounding tissue. You're very lucky. Such a severe reaction could have been fatal. Dr. Hemsey's choice of materials might have been unorthodox, but he worked with what he had. Don't worry. You'll be disconnected before noon. The treatment has gone well; the swelling is down and the other symptoms have abated. Just avoid monkeys in the future and you should be fine." Kara rolled her eye.

"I think she'd figured that part out on her own," Jo observed.

"I expect so," the doctor allowed with a slight smile. "Now due to the improvised nature of the materials, there is a greater risk of complications. I'm going to prescribe some antibiotics, and I need you to rest your voice for a few days. Give the larynx time to heal." He described the possible complications; Kara frowned, but wasn't overly concerned. She noted, though, that Jo was gripping her hand tightly.

When the doctor left, after reminding her one last time not to speak unless necessary, Kara looked at Jo curiously. The photographer didn't release her hand, but looked uncomfortable. "Kara, I wish you'd be more careful," she finally said. "This is the third time you've gotten yourself hurt taking unnecessary risks."

Kara frowned. "I know," Jo raised her free hand to forestall any words, "there was no way to know you'd have such a severe reaction, but still…" she shook her head. "Each time you nearly got yourself killed. I spoke to Sarah and Laura earlier. They were terrified for you after what they saw on the news. I reassured them, told them you were fine and would be home soon."

Kara looked relieved and squeezed Jo's hand gratefully. "Maybe in the future, you'll think a bit more about the people who love you?" She met Kara's eyes directly, willing her to understand that she wasn't just talking about the twins.

After a moment, Kara smiled, a bit wistfully, and squeezed her hand again. There was a flash from the door and both looked up to see a man with a camera and a big smile. "Great shot, ladies!" he called before ducking out. Jo was after him in a flash, but stopped in the door, gaping.

The man was surrounded by four women. One of whom was holding his camera. "Nice toy," she said, before tossing it to a green-haired woman. That one turned around, ostensibly to keep it out of his reach but quickly exposed the film and reclosed the camera before turning back and tossing it to another.

"Say cheese," said the dark-haired woman with the British accent. She clicked the shutter and tossed it to a woman with blue hair.

"Aw, I had my eyes closed, can we take another?" She tossed it to the white-haired woman as the others laughed. The man lunged forward, managing to grab his camera in mid-air.

He rushed off muttering unkind things about the four rockers while the Misfits laughed at his retreating back. The four turned into Kara's room and Jo stood aside, laughing with them.

"I wonder how long it will be before he realizes the film is ruined."

"Hopefully, another few irreplaceable shots from now," Pizzazz smirked. "Hey, Kara. How are you feeling?" The drummer grinned and gave the four a thumbs-up.

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Kara was able to finally leave the hospital the next afternoon. The doctors had insisted on keeping her overnight for observation. Jem and the others had shown up for a visit about an hour after the Misfits had popped in, and had been there first thing in the morning as well. They would have, Jem said, spent more time at the hospital, but they had obligations in the city, including a commitment she had made to the free clinic where Dr. Hemsey worked.

The place, Jem said, subsisted on donations, and Jem had arranged an appearance to raise some much needed funds for the place as a way of thanking him. The clinic's staff had been ecstatic and the group had acquired some new fans.

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Kara walked down the hospital's front steps with a bandage around her neck and a copy of the latest Cool Trash crumpled in her right hand. She scowled at people in general, especially the reporters who were waiting. She hated hospitals; the smell, the sounds, the rhythm of the places always unsettled her.

"How are you feeling?" One of the reporters called.

"Is it true the doctor on the scene used bourbon, a butcher knife and a drinking straw for the tracheotomy?"

"Are your facial scars the result of that incident when you were 12?"

"Any truth to the story that it was a drug overdose?" Another called, referring to the crumpled periodical in Kara's hand. It was that story that had her in such a temper.

"I'm sorry," Jo said from beside, her, "but she can't talk right now. Doctor's orders." She glanced at Kara. "Shall I?" she asked. "You can only talk with your hands right now."

Kara brightened at this and started to raise her free hand. Jo grabbed it. "That wasn't a suggestion." Some of the reporters chuckled at this while regretting the loss of a memorable photo op. Kara thought a moment and then shrugged and nodded. Jo relaxed and turned to the press. "Kara suffered an allergic reaction at the hotel. One of the employees has a pet monkey that got out and went to greet the guests. Kara knew she was allergic, but she didn't know about the monkey, and had no way of knowing she'd have such a severe reaction. A doctor on the scene did perform a tracheotomy with the tools at hand." She glanced at Kara. "I for one, am grateful he was there and so quick to improvise."

"Who are you?" one reporter called.

"I'm Jo Russell, a friend of Kara's," she answered a woman in the front of the crowd.

"You were on the scene as well," one reporter called, "threatening photographers. Do you work for Starlight Music?"

"No. I'm a photographer who mainly works freelance."

"So there's no truth to the story about a drug overdose?"

"None at all," Jo confirmed.

The questions would have gone on for a while, but Jo insisted she had to get Kara to her hotel so she could rest, doctor's orders. With that reasonable and honest excuse, she pushed through them to the car that pulled up at the curb and got Kara inside.

"That was well handled," Jem admitted, "but I wish you'd waited for us."

Kara crumpled the paper into a tighter ball. "Kara wasn't in the mood to wait," Jo explained. "She doesn't like hospitals."

"I can believe that," Aja muttered, nodding. Kara's past experience with hospitals, she was certain, would leave anyone with a strong desire to avoid them. She looked to Kara. "You sure you're alright to be out of the hospital, though? I mean Dr. Hemsey used a butcher knife."

Kara scowled and waved off the concern. "Kara will be fine," Jo answered. "I went through this with the doctor. She'll need to take it easy for a time and get checked by a doctor back home in a week, but he's sure she'll make a full recovery."

"Good," Jem sighed. "That was a close one," she glanced at Kara. "Sorry about the monkey. Madame Yvette said she had him locked up, and that she's covering medical expenses." Kara nodded, absently, and then made a gesture or two that baffled the others. Jo just nodded.

"You can call the girls from the hotel, but I'll have to speak for you." Kara nodded, satisfied. "We've moved the group to a new hotel, of course," Jo continued. "Everything is already in place. No concerts for you, though."

Kara didn't try to answer; she had flattened out the paper in her hands and was looking at her picture on the front page. Her scars were in full view under a headline announcing a drug overdose.

"Don't worry about the headlines, or the pictures," Jem assured her. "Starlight Music has lawyers for things like that."

"It's not going to help that much," Jo pointed out. "Kara's not vain, but she hides her scars for a reason. Nobody likes being gawked at or worse, pitied." The others nodded grimly, but offered no words of sympathy. They knew they had no comparable experience and didn't pretend to understand how she felt. Each knew it wouldn't be well-received. Kara didn't react. She just opened the paper and began rereading the cover story.

"I'm surprised you didn't get a bigger mention in the story," Kimber commented, looking at Jo. "After what you said to those photographers."

Kara glanced up, curious. Jo blushed. "Um, well, I couldn't have camera flashes going off while the doctor was operating."

"True," Jem nodded, "but you might have gone a bit overboard."

When no one elaborated, Kara looked at Jem and gestured. "Um, well," she said awkwardly. "Jo told them that if any flashes went off while the doctor was operating that yours wouldn't be the only throat that got cut."

Kara turned to Jo, incredulous. The photographer just blushed. "Hey, it worked didn't it?" Her friend smiled slightly and forgot about the paper, her personal rhythm steadying at the thought of Jo's staunch defense.

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Kara made a full recovery without complications, though she slept for most of the next two days. She was rather glad of the excuse to avoid the press, as they were still carrying on about the New Orleans incident. It made Kara think more seriously about the question Jerrica had raised about her scars, but for good or ill, their schedule kept them too busy to think much about it.

The group got a minor break from the publicity when they went to Mexico with Video. Kara allowed later that it had been a memorable trip, albeit less than enchanting as Jem had managed to get herself tossed down an Aztec sacrificial well by a thief who was looting the Aztec temple where they were shooting. On the upside, Video's latest Holograms music video was a huge hit.

They were back in town just in time for the Music and Magic show.


	18. Less Than Enchanting

CH. 18 LESS THAN ENCHANTING

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I always thought the way the characters reacted in this episode was plain stupid, so I redid it. Read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara had never cared much for stage magic. Well performed illusions could be entertaining, she supposed, but she found herself, more often than not, evaluating the technical aspects of the performance; the effectiveness of the distractions, the smoothness of transition, and the general showmanship.

Like any stage production, the place was buzzing with activity. Everyone had a job or three to do and was rushing to get them all done correctly and ahead of deadline. Kara had grown used to it all, but the costume was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing things she'd ever worn, and was glad she wouldn't see Jo's reaction to it; she could practically hear the wolf whistle. Sid Bartelli, the director, greeted them warmly and quickly assured himself that they had everything they needed before rushing off. He did pause to introduce one of their co-stars, though.

Devon Silverstone was a smooth talker and skilled performer, Kara admitted, but he had an oily quality to him that put her off. Jem evidently felt the same, as she turned down his invitation to dinner without a second of hesitation. Marla Martel, the famous illusionist, greeted Jem with a warning to stay away from Silverstone and a snake.

Kara neatly caught the creature as Jem dropped it with an undignified shriek. Holding the snake carefully behind the head, in case it was inclined to bite, she offered it to the illusionist. "Yours?"

Marla was taken by surprise and took a step back when it hissed angrily at her. Then her eyes narrowed. "At least one of you has some nerve." She took the snake back and set to work soothing it.

"You should really treat your pets better," Kara scolded. "Even my six-year-olds know better than to treat animals like that."

Marla huffed and walked away with her pet.

"That was well done," a voice spoke from behind her. The group turned to find a slightly overweight, balding man in a stage magician's tuxedo and top hat. A skinny redhead stood behind him. The older man bowed. "We are Fric and Frac, magicians extraordinaire!" the balding man declared.

Jem introduced herself and the band.

"What? Another musical act? How am I supposed to perform my famous vanishing elephant trick when sandwiched between two mindless rock bands? Where's the director?!" He stormed off and the skinny redhead hurried after his boss.

"They seem nice," Kara offered managing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Jem chuckled. "There was no need to panic like that. It was a harmless grass snake."

"I don't like snakes," Jem shuddered at the thought of touching one.

Kara shrugged. "Let's set up."

"I wonder who the other group is?" Aja asked as they set up their instruments and double-checked them.

"We can worry about that later," Jem shook her head. "We have to get some practice in."

"Well, with our luck," Kara offered, as she adjusted the height of the drum stand to suit her, "there's only one real possibility."

A smoke bomb burst at Jem's feet. The sound of familiar laughter filled the room. Kara held her breath, stepping back from the smoke. When it had cleared, they exchanged the, by now, customary insults with the Misfits and Kara caught the second smoke bomb Pizzazz threw and tossed it at the Misfits' feet, leaving them coughing.

"Clear out, ladies," Kara said in a warning tone. "We'd like to practice and you, frankly, _need_ to."

Pizzazz gave a derisive snort but led the others away. That wasn't the end of the interruptions, though. Silverstone returned a few moments later and roped Jem into trying out his vanishing cabinet. She went along with it in the hopes he'd leave her be afterwards. The trick seemed harmless enough until Silverstone's cabinet exploded.

There was a brief panic as Aja fetched a fire extinguisher and they made certain Jem wasn't part of the wreckage. "This is becoming a running gag," Kara muttered. She got the others to help clear it away from the trapdoor she knew must be there. "Where does it lead, Silverstone?"

"Probably to the basement," he allowed. "But she shouldn't have gone that way. That's not how the trick works. Someone tampered with it."

The man was so flustered that it seemed unlikely he was lying. Kara turned to the others. "Let's find the director. He should be able to tell us how to get there." She glanced at the other performers, which by that point included all of the other magicians and the Misfits. "Stay together; I've got a bad feeling about this. I doubt it's just about Jem."

"Meaning what?" Pizzazz asked, petulant at being given orders.

"Only a real magician could have rigged that trick," Cheyna pointed out. "That leaves you out." She glanced at Silverstone, Fric and Marla. "None of you seemed too happy to have us preforming alongside you." She glanced at each in turn, settling of Frac last

"Don't look at Frac," Fric huffed irritably. "Such a trick is far beyond his tiny skills."

"Let's sort that out later," Kara interrupted. "The point is, if the bands are being targeted, we need to stick together." She looked at the magicians, "and I'd rather keep all of you where I can see you." Pizzazz allowed that that made sense, while the magicians grumbled but couldn't really argue the point without looking suspicious.

"Very well," Fric said, his tone exasperated, "but let's hurry this up. I have an act to rehearse."

As they moved to the backstage area and toward the offices, the lights went out and someone screamed. Kara cursed under her breath and called out to the others. "Stay calm. Everyone stay where you are and sound off. Kimber?"

"Here."

"Silverstone?"

"I'm here."

"Pizzazz?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

The only ones that didn't answer were Roxy and Fric. Someone found the lights and they continued on to the offices…or at least they tried to. The door was missing. "I'm getting annoyed with this," Kara growled. "Does anyone remember where the door was?" A long blank wall stared back at them. "It has to be here somewhere. It didn't move and it wasn't sealed up. It's just hidden." Knocking on the wall proved it was just a paper front. They began to tear it down, looking for the door.

They soon found it, but discovered it was locked. "Let's just find the basement ourselves," Marla said in exasperation after trying to pick the lock and having her skeleton key snap. It was a light interior door, so Kara asked her to step aside and gave it a swift kick near the lock. It gave way and the door swung open.

"Come on," she said, moving through the door. The lights went out again. "This is getting ridiculous," Kara breathed as Kimber gave a startled yell that was quickly cut off. "Keep going. Stay together."

"But Kimber-" Aja called.

"Stumbling around in the dark won't help. We get the police in here if necessary to tear this place down and find them."

"W-we really have to find Fric," Frac said. "What if he's hurt? What if going for help takes too long?"

"More time you waste talking, the more likely that is. Go if you like, Frac. I'm not stumbling around in the dark reenacting Hitchcock's '10 Little Indians.'"

"She's got a point," Jetta agreed, "much as I hate to admit it." The other Misfits and Holograms reluctantly agreed. Frac set off to find his partner alone.

It didn't take long for the women, with Silverstone lighting the way with his wand, to find the darkened offices. The director and his staff weren't happy and were trying to rectify it, but they hadn't found the problem yet.

"It's most likely sabotage," Kara told him, and explained the situation.

Sid sputtered angrily for a bit, but calmed himself with an effort. "Okay." He looked to the engineer responsible for the upkeep of the electrical system.

The man nodded. "There are only so many ways to shut everything down like this. Give me 20 minutes." He moved off to get his crew organized.

"In the meantime, I'll send to the mainland for the police. I don't know what this is about, and I don't really care. I've got a show to put on."

"That will be hard to do with performers missing," Kara pointed out. "We need to get to the basement where those trapdoors lead."

"Of course. We've got some security guards here that can assist. Our head of security knows every inch of Magic Island." He introduced them to Karl Baker, and they set off to search the basement and anywhere else the missing might have been taken.

Whoever was behind the kidnappings apparently decided to cut their losses, as there were no further incidents. Martel discovered and disarmed two booby-traps, one of which involved a caged tiger. One of the security staff searching the basement was suffered a broken leg when a cannon firing confetti knocked him through a paper wall and down a chute leading to a sub-basement.

That was where they found the missing people, including Frac, caged. Apparently, Fric's assistant, in trying to locate his boss, had set off a trap and been dumped into a cage like everyone else. It was a bit anti-climactic, as the person behind it never was discovered, but everyone was safe and accounted for. That was sufficient. There were no further disruptions and the show went on without a hitch.

Reporters had a field day with the story, and there was endless speculation about who had been behind it. Kara's actions were praised by the police, as the investigating officer said that remaining calm and leaving the area to find help was the only sensible course of action.

The publicity was a boon for the group, and while the Misfits made the most of what little attention, they got, they grumbled over the publicity Kara and the rest of the group received.


	19. Personal Matters

CH. 19 PERSONAL MATTERS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara wasn't really concerned about the Misfits. She hadn't yet decided what to do about Jo's little confession. The group had been on the go since they got back from New Orleans, and while Kara had been ordered to take it easy, that didn't mean she was idle. After a follow up with a doctor in L.A., she'd been given the green light to travel.

They had left for Mexico within four very busy days, and the Music and Magic show had been a week after their return, a week in which Jo was doing a fashion shoot for the Countess Danielle DuVoisin in New York. The delay had bought her time to think.

Jo…wasn't like a sister. Best friend was the best way to describe her feelings for the other woman, and had always assumed it was mutual. Jo teased, of course, that was just part of her rhythm. She knew Jo was a lesbian and had been there on more than one occasion to comfort her after her latest girlfriend had disappointed her in some way. Kara repressed a sigh and wondered when the teasing had turned serious for Jo.

The truth was, Kara admitted to herself, it would be a good match. She knew few people as fine as Jo and found herself asking again, where can I find a man like that? But she wasn't attracted to other women and pretending would do them both a disservice. It was a vexing problem, and it only got worse the longer she delayed. Jo wasn't pressuring her for an answer, it wouldn't occur to her fried to do that, but she was waiting, nonetheless.

She'd been so distracted with her own issues; as she sat brooding in the kitchen of Starlight Mansion, she'd almost missed Rio's arrival. Jerrica had come in a few minutes earlier to fix herself a sandwich and seeing Kara was deep in thought about something, had only offered a token greeting and given her space.

Rio asked Jerrica about Jem's whereabouts, much to the irritation of the group's manager. Kara ignored them, only peripherally aware of the argument. Rio wasn't happy with Jem's secrecy and Jerrica, it seemed, was upset with her boyfriend's infatuation with the lead singer.

_I'm not the only one having relationship problems_, Kara mused as Rio stormed off. _Although, mine aren't quite so strange_. Jerrica settled down across the table from her and picked up the latest issue of Cool Trash. Kara wasn't sure why Jerrica read it, as it just made her angry.

After a moment, Benton dropped the rag and settled for staring moodily into space. Their situations had very little in common, yet Kara couldn't help comparing them, noting similarities in the rhythm despite the different tempos. She needed to talk to Jo, the sooner the better. Jerrica needed to talk to Rio and sort out their mess before it became everyone's mess. In her case, Kara risked losing one friend. The situation with Jerrica and Jem could cause serious problems with the group. Kara remembered the Rising Stars and shook her head, deciding to offer an opinion, solicited or not on the one thing she felt certain of, even as she realized she was just delaying dealing with her own situation. "This is no good," she muttered.

"Huh?" Jerrica looked up to find Kara watching her.

"I've seen groups fall apart over things like this. Love triangles don't end well, and this one is just bizarre." Jerrica opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped, knowing it was true. "Keeping secrets is like digging a hole. The only smart thing to do is stop digging before it buries you." She sighed. "I know you made your decision about telling Rio, but something needs to be done."

"I know," Jerrica let out a frustrated sigh of her own. "I'll think of something."

"I'll leave you to it." Kara turned and walked out, leaving Jerrica staring after her, with a troubled expression.

Kara found a phone and called Jo, determined not to put it off anymore. The photographer picked up on the third ring. "Hi, Jo. You busy tonight?'

"I'm free, Kara. What's up?"

"Can we have dinner? Just the two of us? There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Okay. Sure. Come over about 7:30, okay?"

"Sounds good. See you then."

The drive over to Jo's apartment gave her time to think and she decided on being direct. It was something both women valued and they had always been honest with each other. It was aggravating and embarrassing that she had let this matter go so long without being addressed.

Jo lived in a two bedroom apartment in Long Beach. It was a nice place, not far from the beach and surrounded by palms. She lived on the second floor of the building at the back of the complex. Letting Kara in, she told her to make herself comfortable as dinner was nearly ready. Looking around, Kara allowed herself a smile. The place was organized chaos, as usual. Jo was meticulous in her profession, but she wasn't much of a housekeeper. A pile for everything and everything in its pile seemed to be her motto.

Kara found herself reviewing her options. Various conversational openers chased each other around her head, followed close by potential reactions from Jo and possible ways to deal with them.

"Deep thoughts?" Jo asked leaning on the back of the couch.

Kara smiled ruefully. "Deep as I get, anyway."

"Would you finish setting the table? You know where everything is."

"Okay." Kara got up and fetched glasses and sodas for both of them. Neither woman drank alcohol, having seen more than enough of what it could do to people. The table in the small dining room seated four and it wasn't uncommon for Kara and the twins to be found sharing it with her. They always enjoyed the time there, and Kara remembered several invitations to move in.

As if reading her mind, Jo smiled from her place by the stove where she was putting the stew she'd made into two bowls. "I'm almost sorry that Kimber was with you the night of the shootout at your old place. If she hadn't taken you back to that mansion of theirs, I'd have dragged the three of you here by force."

"You think I would have turned down an invitation?" Kara put the glasses on the table and grabbed the warm rolls from the stove top, and silverware from the drawer next to it.

"I know how proud you are," Jo scolded mildly, turning the burner down to a simmer and stirring the stewpot. "Never accept charity, not even from friends. That's why, I figure, you never even considered approaching-" she broke off abruptly, uncomfortable.

"The Banks family?" Kara asked, not overly bothered by the topic, at least not anymore. _Time and distance_... "What sort of person would I be to kill their son and then demand money for what he did?" She shook her head as she arranged the place settings. "Me and the girls had some rough times, but I never regretted that choice."

"Kara," Jo began, looking pained. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh. Sorry." Kara answered quietly. After a moment's consideration, she said, "it might have made matters easier in some ways, but I could never do it."

"After what they put you though, I'd think they owe you something, and I'm not talking about what Harland did."

"I don't hold anything against the family… not anymore. What's the saying? Forgive your enemies but remember their names?"

"Hn," Jo grunted noncommittally. "I don't think I could be that forgiving." Kara only shrugged. It had taken her a while to get to that point herself, but she didn't bother saying it. Jo had been one of her only visitors during her time in the hospital and she'd been furious over the state Kara had been in. After what she'd been put through, and what she'd been forced to do, they had the nerve to arrest her?

Jo looked down at the stove to hide her expression and fiddled absently with the knobs. Kara had been a physical and emotional wreck, not knowing what was going to happen to her. The worry over the arrest for something she couldn't even remember had played havoc with her recovery even after being told by the detectives that the charge had been dropped. It still made Jo angry to think on it. With an effort, she pushed the memory away. "How did we get there from talking about living arrangements?" Jo asked rhetorically, a little ashamed of herself for bringing up that topic, even by accident.

"Doesn't matter," Kara answered, determined to smooth out the rhythm. "I know you'd have taken us in, and the girls would have loved it." She shook her head. "Another example of our bad timing?"

"Probably," Jo answered lightly, glad to have the awkward topic behind them. "The first time, I was living in that shoe box of an apartment with barely enough room for two, let alone four and barely making ends meet."

"The next, you'd been offered that great opportunity in San Francisco and I wouldn't let you turn it down. If you had, your career wouldn't be where it is now."

"Maybe, but I still would have happily stayed to help you and the girls." As she spoke, she finished at the stove and brought out the food. They settled into the straight back chairs across from each other and Jo smiled in satisfaction. "It's a good life, and one I wish I could share with you."

"I know," Kara smiled at her friend, bracing for what she had to say. She delayed long enough for a few bites of stew. "That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Jo asked, dipping a roll in the stew and taking a bite while she waited.

"When we were in New Orleans, you told me in the hospital that…"

"That I love you? I hope that wasn't a shock or even news."

"No." Kara smiled warmly, if a bit sadly. "I know. It's just…you know how I feel don't you? I adore you, really I do, but the feelings aren't…romantic."

"I know," Jo said. "I've known that a long time. Is that what you've been worried about? That I'd be angry you don't feel the same way?" Kara hesitated to answer, and Jo shook her head. "Much as I'd love it if you did, I know you're not gay."

Kara shrugged. "I've never really thought about it, honestly. I just know how I feel, and I want you to find someone who can love you back that way." She paused for a moment, considering her next words. "I wouldn't be doing either of us a favor if I pretended, and we both know it."

"True," Jo nodded. Like Kara, she had never been one to delude herself about anything. "I want you to find someone, too. Someone you can feel that way about."

"Thanks," Kara smiled, "but I don't think that's going to happen."

"I hope you don't think you're incapable of feeling that way for anyone." Kara didn't answer, and Jo shook her head, and lowered the spoon she'd started to raise to her mouth. "You are and you will. I only hope whoever it is know how lucky they are."

With Kara's main concerns addressed the rest of the dinner passed with idle talk and companionable silence as they enjoyed Jo's cooking. They spoke of their upcoming schedules and made plans for an outing with the twins. By the end of the evening, both were much relieved that the air had been cleared and that nothing had really changed between them, the rhythm remaining strong and steady.


	20. All That Jazz and Then Some

CH. 20 ALL THAT JAZZ AND THEN SOME

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara had never been a big fan of jazz, but she admired the skill required to play the way Taps Tucker did. The band he had led 40 years before was still well known and admired. Getting them together again, as Jerrica wished to do, would be a neat trick, though.

She had gotten the idea after seeing the Misfits treating him poorly on the Lindsay Pierce show. Aja had commented absently about how great it would be if they could all play together again, and Jerrica thought it was a terrific idea. The problem was that the members of the band hadn't seen each other, let alone played together, in decades, but she was determined to try.

The next day they made the trip to Tucker's home. Jerrica thought it would have a greater impact if the entire group went to ask him together. Kara was dubious about the odds of getting the group back together but Kimber was excited by the idea and Kara, who despite their differences had grown fond of the occasionally flighty redhead, let herself get caught up in the mood. It would be a challenge and she liked a challenge. Tucker's home turned out to be a rundown hotel in a neighborhood that, like the hotel, had seen better days. Jem knocked on the door.

"Well I'll be! Jem and the Holograms; I love your music!"

"And we love yours Taps, which is why we're here. May we come in?"

He let them in and got them settled in his living room while Jem explained the idea.

"It sounds wonderful; Jem," the old trumpet player smiled, "but I haven't seen the others in years. I'm not even sure I know where they are."

"Don't worry, Taps," Jem said. "I'm sure we can find them, and I've a friend who owns a jazz recording label. I'm sure he'd be interested in the return of the famous Taps Tucker Band. May I call him?" With his permission, she placed a call to Mark Rockwell.

Rockwell had been intrigued by the idea and had agreed to give them the opportunity, but there was a catch. He told her that he had another deal in the works and could only give Jem 24 hours to reunite the band. The time constraint was a serious problem, and unfortunately, he owned the only jazz record label that could pull it off.

"I think I know how to save some time," Jem said after explaining the situation and getting the group moving. She contacted Synergy and asked if she could find the band members while they made their way home.

By the time they returned, Synergy had connected herself to the IRS' computer mainframe and located the band members. The group had barely returned home before most of them were off again, scattered across the country, tracking down the old musicians. Cheyna headed for Duke's Landing to find the sax player, Ace O'Toole. Aja went to Seattle to find Joey London, the drummer and Kimber headed for Houston to find the base player, Dave Wilson. They were just splitting up, however, when a new wrinkle appeared.

Within hours after Rockwell had given them the deadline for reuniting the band; Tucker's horn had been stolen. Jerrica made a call to Mark Rockwell and confirmed the other deal was with Eric Raymond. There was no time to involve the police and Jerrica firmly vetoed the notion of Kara dangling Eric out his office window till he coughed up the stolen instrument.

"We'll have Synergy disguise us as exterminators, get Eric out of his office long enough for us to search," Jem explained as they stepped into the elevator and headed up to Raymond's office.

"I prefer my idea, but okay."

Jem rolled her eyes and had Synergy change their appearance.

"You look like Jem dressed as an exterminator," Kara told her, "right down to the earrings. Can she alter our faces? And voices?" Synergy did so. They stepped out of the elevator looking and sounding entirely different.

Raymond wasn't pleased with the interruption to his work, but he cleared out when Kara pointed out that he really shouldn't be breathing insecticide. A quick look around the office located the horn on display in a glass case.

"Idiot," Kara muttered. "He puts stolen property on display like a trophy?" She put the horn in her bag and asked Synergy to create an image of the horn in its place. This was done just in time, as Raymond barged in, saying they'd taken enough time.

"Fine, fine. We just finished up," Jem assured him as they left the office. Barely 30 seconds had passed before Raymond rushed out in pursuit. By then, they had reached the elevator and were on their way down and out of the building.

The others each returned with a harrowing tale and an aged musician in tow. They arrived just in time to prevent Rockwell from signing the deal with Raymond. Kara wasn't sure whether she should be angry with the man or amused at the way he conducted business. She interrupted his tirade at Rockwell mid-rant.

"This is how you handle yourself in a business negotiation? Honestly Raymond why anyone does business with you is almost as big a mystery as why you're not in jail."

Rockwell looked confused at the statement and Raymond looked murderous, but there wasn't much he could do, especially after Rockwell, on impulse, tore up the contract, very relieved Jem and her band had arrived in time to keep him from signing. Eric stormed out and Kara just shook her head at his behavior. "I'll say one thing for Eric. He never burns bridges. He bombs them."

It wasn't long before the reunited band was laughing together as they caught up on old times. Kara was relieved to see the group's rhythm reestablished so easily and suspected that the reunion album would be a huge success. That Eric Raymond had lost a valuable deal in the process was just icing on the cake as far as the group was concerned.

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With the jazz reunion behind them, the group moved on to its next project. It seemed a rich eccentric named Xanthos was having a contest. He wanted videos about friendship and good will. A number of groups were competing, but the only real surprise was that the Misfits were participating. Jerrica had had a few choice comments about that, and the others had just shaken their heads in resignation when they found out. None were actually worried about the other group being serious competition.

In order to win the contest, they brought Danse onto the project and set her to ice skating in a 'winter wonderland' setting. Kara, having never seen real snow, was curious about the machine producing it. She went to stand near the base of the tower it had been placed on and watched as the snow flurries were blown out over the set. She was the only one to notice when the machine began to shake. There was a faint rattling that was just audible over the noise of the fan.

"Shut it down!" She moved around by the ladder. "Something's wrong." The machine suddenly kicked into high gear, but Red, the man running the machine, already had his hand on the switch and shut it down before it got out of control.

"What happened?" Jem called approaching them. Danse skated over to join them, looking curious.

"The machine started rattling and shaking," Kara told them, "right before it started pouring out a blizzard."

"Huh," Red looked over the machine. "I'll have ta take it apart ta find the trouble. Could be a few things came loose." He glanced at Jem. "Should nay take too long."

"Okay, Red. Take what time you need. We don't need any accidents." The big Scotsman nodded and called for equipment to lower the snow machine to the ground where he could properly examine it.

Jem turned to find Kara ignoring the machine and examining a handful of the fake snow, while she watched the girls play. "Never seen snow before?"

"No. Winters in Marseille are usually mild. It never snowed while I lived there."

"Maybe you'll get the chance on one of our upcoming tours."

"Hope so." She glanced at Red where he was removing the side of the machine to examine the works. "This could take a while, let's do another dry run."

Jem agreed and they called their extras together and set to work.

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The Rock Out Illiteracy Tour didn't present her with an opportunity to see snow. Philadelphia was growing cold during their visit, but not that cold. Roxy's appearance kept it from being dull, but the group really could have done without the chaos she caused.

"I'm not sure why you bothered to help her," Kara said to Jem after the lead singer spent several hours straightening out the other woman's mess.

"She needed help," Jem said. "You never know when being kind to someone will pay off for you."

"I wouldn't count on gratitude from that one," Kara commented nodding toward Roxy, who was arguing with yet another man in a suit.

"Maybe not," Jem allowed, "but we had to try." She sighed with fatigue. "I'm kind of glad this is the last stop, though."

"Me too. Home to L.A.?"

"Day after tomorrow," Jem confirmed, not really needing to ask what her friend was thinking. "Missing your girls?" she smiled fondly.

"Always."

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The weeks after their return were fairly quiet. All of their work was done in the city and they were able to be home each night, usually at a reasonable time. The twins were happy about that, as they'd been missing their mother and were not pleased with her being away so much.

Kara went back to overseeing their lessons, helping them with their schoolwork and just being with them. They had time for dinners with Jo, as well, something the girls always enjoyed. It also gave her time for something she'd been putting off. She made an appointment with a noted plastic surgeon to talk about her scars.

Dr. Pinero had made a name for himself in Hollywood doing nips and tucks, but he was also well known for his skill with what was called scar revision. Kara didn't know what to expect, but she had finally decided to at the very least see what could be done. She didn't like half measures, but there seemed little choice in this instance but to move in stages. What little research she had been able to do suggested that it might not be possible to erase them completely, only reduce their appearance. If that was the case… she didn't know. She opened the door to his office.

"Miss Mistrahl," he greeted her, "please, come in."

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The new girl, Laura Holloway, was leaning out her window shouting about being able to fly. Kara was helping Ba Nee, just down the hall, with her spelling when the shouting started. Kara reached Laura first and grabbed her by the belt, yanking her inside just before Jerrica reached the top of the stairs.

"Laura, what did you take?" Jerrica asked, frantic with worry, but Laura had grown sullen and insisted she hadn't taken anything. Kara glared at the girl, angered by her denials. She had seen that reaction before, and knew what it meant; she also hated what tended to follow. Just thinking about it caused her temper to flare.

"You tried to fly out the window. Are you going to tell us that was just a whim?" she demanded. "Where are they?"

"There are no drugs!" Laura was adamant until Kara upended the girl's lunchbox and found the packet.

"HEY! You had no right!"

"I've seen this before," Kara told her angrily as she rounded on the girl, causing her to step back, a bit alarmed at the look on the woman's face. "I've seen that reaction. A boy who grew up at the orphanage I lived in got hooked on them when he was about your age. I was the one who had to call 911 after he decided he could outrun a train."

Laura blinked at her, uncertain what to say to this. "A train?"

"Yeah. He broke both legs and lost part of his right arm. The arm he left behind by the tracks, and he was lucky to have gotten off that easy."

Laura paled.

"You want more of this?" She held up the package with two fingers, dangling it like bait. "What do you think'll happen next time?" she demanded. "Another attempt at flying? Something equally stupid? I don't want to be hosing you off the front walk."

Laura looked a bit ill at the mental image. "I-I…"

"Where did you get them?" Jerrica broke in in a quieter, more reasonable tone.

"A-a b-boy at school. He said they'd make me play better."

"And you believed him?" Kara asked incredulously. "He just wants your money, and doesn't give a damn what happens to you."

"He didn't ask for money."

"Of course not," Jerrica put in, giving Kara a worried glance. She seemed to be taking the 'bad cop' role a bit far. "He wanted you hooked on this stuff. If you keep taking it, you'll get to the point where you'll do anything to get more."

"Assuming you live that long," Kara reminded her. Jerrica shot her another look, growing worried at the other woman's tone and words, but Kara ignored her. "This kid lied to you, and he just wants to use you. The only thing those drugs will make you better at is making a fool of yourself, and I don't think you need any help with that."

It took time, effort, and a few scare tactics, but between them, Kara and Jerrica managed to coax the truth out of her. Kara pointed out that this would just keep happening to other kids if the dealer wasn't stopped. More people would get hooked and maybe die. They got her to agree to talk to the police.

"You were a little over the top weren't you?" Jerrica asked later that night. Laura had stayed in her room, not having much appetite. The two were working together in the kitchen to get dinner ready for the household.

Kara glanced at Jerrica and shook her head. "No," she answered firmly. "Did you think I made up that part about Jerry and the train? I've known others, too. A woman in the building where I used to live still has all her limbs, but she sells herself over on Madison to pay for the cocaine she uses." Kara shook her head. "Nothing good comes from using or even tolerating that junk."

"I see." Jerrica was silent a moment, absorbing what she'd just learned, but still not convinced that that was all there was to Kara's reaction. After a moment, Jerrica asked hesitantly, "is there something else bothering you?"


	21. A Little Down Time

CH. 21 A LITTLE DOWN TIME

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. I've been thinking and some reviewers have agreed that I need to show a little more personal interaction between Kara and the other Holograms. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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"Our schedule is fairly light for the next week or so," Kimber commented leaning back on the couch. "A couple of club dates, work on a new album that isn't due for a while yet… it'll almost be like a vacation after the last couple of months."

"Sounds good," Kara said from the spot on the couch next to her. "We could all use a little down time. The two were taking the afternoon to be lazy. The TV was set to a movie both were enjoying and they had no other responsibilities at the moment.

Jerrica was at Starlight Music using her 'down time' to do paperwork. Cheyna was locked in the room she'd turned into a miniature design studio working on new costume ideas and Aja was tinkering on some machine or other with Rio. The Starlight girls were at school, and many had after-school activities ranging from the AV club to soccer practice. The twins were going along to that to see if it was something they might like doing. It would be almost three hours before Kara was due to collect them. Kimber and Kara were the only ones without personal projects to work on at the moment, and neither one minded or felt guilty over it. They'd lived through one of Aja's aerobics workouts earlier that day before everyone went their separate ways and were pleasantly tired.

"Gives us a little time to do things we've been putting off, too." Kimber glanced at Kara meaningfully.

The brunette sighed. _There goes the mood_, she thought, _but I guess it needs to be addressed_. "You think I was too hard on her too?" She had, she admitted, been putting it off in the two days since the confrontation, but she wasn't at all sure how to handle it.

"Jerrica said she had never seen you that angry."

"That wasn't me angry, Kimber," Kara corrected, reluctant to make the admission. "That was me scared."

"Huh?" The redhead blinked at her. "You came down on Laura pretty hard, and that was you scared?"

"She's got a lot of potential, we all heard her guitar playing and her singing voice, and she nearly threw it... away." Kara grimaced and Kimber gave her a puzzled look. "I was about to say 'out the window.'"

"Oh." It was Kimber's turn to grimace.

"Like I told Jerrica, I've seen that reaction before, and I can happily go the rest of my life without seeing it again." The worst part of it was that Kara had known Jerry was using something, but it had been too wrapped up in her own problems to take much notice. Seeing Jerry 'flying high' one afternoon had been a rude awakening in itself. Seeing what happened at the tracks had been far worse. The aftermath of that incident was another reason Kara hated hospitals.

"I guess I can understand that, but…maybe it's something Laura should hear? I mean she's walking on eggshells around you when she isn't avoiding you completely."

"I suppose," Kara sighed. For most of her life she'd either been too angry or too busy just getting by worry about what other people thought of her. And Laura, it seemed, didn't have a best friend like Jo to help her through the rough times, the way Kara had. "I don't really… open up. You know that."

"Oh, I know, believe me," Kimber answered. "Good time to start trying."

"Okay," Kara said after a moment. "I'll talk to her tonight. Her behavior is becoming a bit annoying."

"She's scared of you," Kimber chided.

Kara shook her head. "Laura lets other people define her," she disagreed. "I don't understand that." The statement, Kara admitted to herself, wasn't entirely true. When she'd been little, after coming to the orphanage, she had let others define her; one person in particular. She kept her face carefully neutral as she gave the thought of that person a vicious shove. She'd been a wreck back then and she hated remembering the scared little girl that had let one person's actions convince her she... She gave the memory another hard shove. "I'll speak to her." Maybe she could give Laura a boost in that respect, if she could figure out how.

The girl needed self-confidence and that was something that Kara had no clue how to give her, but she could at least make peace with her. It hadn't been her intention to be cruel, but looking back on the confrontation; she realized that was probably how she'd seemed.

"You have no idea what to say to her, do you?" Kimber guessed.

"No."

"Maybe you should just try telling her what you told me…but leave out the part about the window." Kara eyed her for a moment, wondering if Kimber had been trying to make a joke; then she moved on.

"I'll try." She thought for a moment. "I've lost track of the movie."

"Me too," Kimber sighed and turned it off. "Do you remember when you told us about your scars?"

"That was different," Kara shrugged.

"Yeah, but you were straight-forward about it. You weren't looking for sympathy or anything and you made that clear. You just wanted us to have the facts. Maybe you can use that approach with Laura. Say what you need to say."

Kara nodded thoughtfully. "I can do that, but I have no idea what to do about her self-confidence."

"You can't give her self-confidence," Kimber allowed. She thought for a bit. "Maybe it'll help to know that you don't think she's worthless, though?"

Kara winced. That really hadn't been her intention. "I'll do what I can."

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Jerrica looked up from her paperwork when the door opened. Rio smiled at her. "The first time in over a month you've had a chance to slow down and you're sitting here frantically doing paperwork."

"If I get behind, Starlight Music suffers, and that means Starlight Foundation suffers. People depend on me Rio."

"No argument," Rio said easily. "Still, there's nothing here that can't wait till tomorrow."

"I suppose," Jerrica sighed, looking over the pile of reports and invoices she had yet to review and approve. There was nothing urgent there. She signed one last document, tossed it into her OUT box and stood up. "Let's get out of here." Rio grinned.

"Late lunch and a movie?"

"Sounds perfect." She paused. "I thought you and Aja were going to be busy all day?"

"We need some parts that we can't get till tomorrow, earliest."

They started making their way down to the parking lot where Rio's van was parked. "How are things going at the mansion? Aja said that the new girl had some problems?"

"It's…complicated," Jerrica hedged. "Kind of personal for her. The biggest problem she has now is that she seems terrified of Kara."

"Kara? Why?"

"You haven't run afoul of her temper have you?" Jerrica gave a humorless laugh.

"Ah, no. Why would Kara lose her temper with the new girl?"

"Like I said, complicated. I think the biggest issue now is that Kara just doesn't know how to deal with Laura's main problem, that being self-esteem."

"What do you mean?"

"Laura doesn't have any, and Kara seems honestly baffled by the way she responds to her."

"So…Laura is letting Kara's reaction to…whatever happened, make her miserable because…"

"Because she doesn't have a very high opinion of herself. Other people's opinions seem like everything to her." She shrugged. "Unless those opinions are positive and then she can't seem to believe them."

"Kara's not the most sensitive person in the world," Rio observed.

"She tries," Jerrica defended her friend. "She's just used to thinking only about herself and her girls." She shook her head. "No. That's not quite right. I guess I don't really understand her. She's suspicious of people she doesn't know and kind of slow to trust. Guess I can't blame her, given what I know of her life, but since she's joined the Holograms she's been getting closer to being like part of the family."

"She and Kimber get along well, and I didn't see that coming," Rio allowed.

"Neither did I," Jerrica admitted. "It's a nice surprise, though, and she's proven to be very loyal to those she calls friends," she added after a moment.

"What are you going to do about Laura Holloway?" Rio asked, getting back to the original topic.

"Kimber said she'd talk to Kara about it. I think Kara will listen to her."

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"Thanks for doing this, Kara."

"Not a problem, Cheyna," Kara answered a bit uncomfortably as she stood in the other woman's studio in her underwear.

"I just need to try a few things against your skin tone." Cheyna approached with a length of forest green cloth. She draped it over Kara's shoulders and arranged it to her liking. She made a few notes and then tried another length of fabric. "I'll have to leave to pick up the girls in about an hour," Kara reminded her.

"This won't take that long," Cheyna assured her. I have some ideas for new designs that need a living model to try out." She draped the fabric in different ways and had Kara pose and walk around the room while she took notes. "I understand the twins are going to try soccer," she commented.

"They're looking into it. I doubt they'll be able to do more than run around the field chasing the ball, but if they have fun, that's fine."

"Did you ever play soccer?"

"When I was around eight or nine. It was a good way to stay out of the orphanage and away from Berney. Can't say I really liked the game itself much, but it was good exercise."

"That's a depressing reason to take up sports," Cheyna observed swapping canary yellow for a darker shade and adding a blue length tied like a sash. Stepping back, she considered the results.

"I don't think these colors work for me," Kara commented, looking at the mirror to her left.

"Trust me. I think this could work for you. Fashion is…" She hesitated.

"Not my area of expertise?" Kara finished; then shrugged. "I always had more practical criteria and frugality is a hard habit to break, even now that I've got money coming in."

"I can understand that," Cheyna nodded. "Still going to try to get you to upgrade your wardrobe," she added with a smile.

"That bad?"

"Your choices for stage clothes are fine. You've got good if conservative tastes, but there's no reasons look like you dress from the bargain bin the rest of the time. Shopping trip tomorrow?"

"I'm game, as long as I'm within my budget."

"We'll do what we can," she promised, rolling her eyes, having suspicions about the nature and size of Kara's budget.

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"Was this the project you were working on with Rio?" Kara asked, noting her partially disassembled engine and the blue-haired woman with the toolbox.

"No. We need a few parts to continue with that," Aja answered, making an adjustment to something she hadn't removed. "Yesterday, though, I noticed that high pitched noise from the engine."

"Last mechanic I spoke to said he couldn't do anything until he could reproduce it," Kara nodded. "You know what it is?"

"Mm-hmm," the Chinese woman replied leaning over the engine. "One of your belts just needs adjustment. Have it fixed in a few minutes."

"Thanks," Kara said sincerely. She hadn't been looking forward to the mechanic's bill for searching for and hopefully fixing the intermittent noise. Aja, Kara had learned, tinkered with machines for fun. She kept the roadster running smoothly and helped Rio with various technical projects he took on. Fortunately, this was her idea of fun.

"You're picking up the twins and Mary-Anne, right?"

"That's right."

"Could you make a few side-trips on the way back?"

"I suppose. What do you need?"

"Just pick up a package at the Radio Shack on Crestway. I'm expecting a special order, and it's a couple of blocks from the soccer field." She paused to make an adjustment. "The pharmacy is about a mile from there. Chrissie's prescription should be ready by now."

"Okay," Kara agreed amicably, wondering if that was one of the reasons Aja was fixing the car. It was possible, she allowed, but unlikely. Such a trade of services wouldn't have occurred to the other woman. "Is that it?" Aja listed two more minor errands in the area, and Kara readily agreed.

"What exactly are you and Rio working on, anyway?" she asked curiously.

"Rio wants to build a synthesizer from scratch. Right now, we're just mapping out the basics of a new design and trying some ideas." She made a final adjustment and straightened up. "That's it. Now I just need to get everything back in place and you're good to go." She began replacing engine parts with the ease of long practice. "You meeting Jo for dinner?"

"Not this week. There was some kind of darkroom accident and she's going to be busy." Kara had been looking forward to it, too, as had the twins. "What about you? What are you doing tonight?"

"Trade show downtown. Newest computer models and electronics. The last one I went to got interrupted," she said, referring to Kara's first encounter with Clash. "She glanced up with a grin. "I thought I'd leave the rest of you home this time." Kara snorted in amusement. "Give it a try," Aja gestured toward the car. I want to make sure everything runs right before you head off."

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Mary-Anne hopped out of the car and brought the seat forward so the twins could clamber out. The three were reviewing the soccer practice excitedly and talking about next week. Kata gathered that the twins had enjoyed themselves and wanted more. Good for them. Kara popped the trunk and retrieved the packages she'd been asked to pick up. She glanced at her watch as she sent the girls into the mansion. Laura Holloway should be home by now.

She saw the kids inside and safely off to clean up for dinner before delivering her various items. Then she headed for the room where Laura Holloway spent most of her time and knocked on the door. "Laura?"

"C-come in," a hesitant voice answered.

Kara opened the door and quietly entered the girl's room. "Can we talk?"


	22. Technical Difficulty

Ch. 22 TECHNICAL DIFFICULTY

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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The Cloud Nine Restaurant was very exclusive, even when they weren't holding private parties. As it was, only members of the Pilot's Club and their guests were getting in that day. Rio, justifiably proud of his new license, had said he would get Jem and the Holograms to play for the club's celebration to welcome a crop of new members.

Jem had readily agreed to play for the club and the rest had gone along happily. It was halfway through the first set that things turned weird. Shouts from the audience alerted the group a second before the shadow fell over them.

"What the hell?" Kara muttered as she tried to get out from under the incoming skydiver. She almost cleared the stage, but was forced to change course when the man kicked down the power lines. Avoiding him wasn't difficult, but the 'chute covered the entire stage making it hard to tell where anything was, especially the power lines. "That's it," she declared as she tried to fight her way clear of the parachute, "I'm going to start carrying my knife again."

She heard voices coming from her left and started working her way in that direction. Tossing folds of silk over her shoulder as she went, till she reached Kimber and the skydiver who were chatting like old friends. "Having a good time, Kimber?" she asked as she grabbed a handful of the young man's hair.

"Ow! Hey!"

"What kind of idiot parachutes into a crowded restaurant? You could have killed us kicking down those power lines."

"It wasn't my idea!"

The parachute was lifted aside and a worried group surrounded them. Kara hauled him to his feet. "Oh? Whose idea was it?"

"Theirs," he said, pointing at a circling plane.

Rio looked up. "McDuffy," he growled.

"And you thought this was a good idea?" Kara demanded, still irritated over the stunt.

"Come on, Kara, let him go," Kimber said. "I know Switch. He wouldn't deliberately hurt anyone."

"So he's just stupid?"

"Let it go, Kara," Jem said, playing peace-maker.

"I'm sorry for the trouble I caused," Switch cut in, "but I had to see you, Jem." While he had her attention, he told her about KMEL, the radio station he and his friends worked for. "The man who owns KMEL will let us turn it into a college radio station, if we can find a backer before he signs off tonight."

"That's why you 'dropped in'?" Kara asked, "to ask Starlight Music to back the station?"

"I'm sorry," Jem said, "but Starlight Music already supports the Starlight Foundation. We have too many commitments as it is. We can't help you."

Switch tried again to plead his case. Jem was apologetic, but firm in her denial.

"You do have other things to worry about," Kara pointed out, as Switch tried to muster another argument. She nodded toward the restaurant manager approaching with two uniformed police officers. "It seems I'm not the only one who thinks what you did was stupid."

It took some fast talking on Switch's part and a few words from Jem, but he was released without being charged. Kara wasn't sure why the lead singer bothered, but kept her peace. On the way home that night, Jem and Kara listened to Elser Marcus' final words to his listeners. Evidently, his words struck a chord in her, because without a word, she changed course and headed for the KMEL building. Kara followed her into the station, curious as to her intention. She knew nothing of business, but if Jerrica had thought of a way to help the ailing station after earlier refusing, she would do her best to support the idea.

They arrived just in time to stop Marcus from accepting a buyout offer from a weasel of a man.

"Don't sign that," Kara advised when Jem announced their presence.

"Jem?" Switch's friends turned to look and gaped at the sight of the famous singer standing in the door.

"We're here with an offer from Starlight Music," Jem told him. "Starlight Music would like to offer these kids a partnership. We'll cover operating expenses as long as we can and give them a chance to get the station back on its feet. There would be little in the way of financial backing, I'm afraid, but resources can be shared until the station becomes profitable."

"Don't be an idiot," the man with the buyout offer sneered. "These airhead rockers and their groupies will land you in the poorhouse!"

Kara grasped one of the man's ears and twisted. "Get the door," she said to a large red-headed man in sunglasses. Chuckling, he obliged and Kara sent the man staggering out. Jem ignored this and outlined her idea for the short run and hopeful long-term benefits for everyone. Marcus was stunned and exuberant by turns.

"Well, I'm all for it, but I've already signed off. This will be a whole new start for the station. You'll need to apply for new call letters."

"I've got it," Switch grinned. "How abou M? KHEM?"

Jem looked taken aback, for a moment. "Y-you really shouldn't…"

"It sounds perfect to me," Marcus said enthusiastically.

"I-I'd be honored," Jem stammered, taken aback at the idea. Then she smiled. "Alright. KJEM it is!"

They made arrangements for an organizational meeting the following week and left the kids chattering excitedly and already bouncing ideas off each other. Kara climbed into the roadster beside Jem as the other woman started the car.

"KJEM, huh?" Kara chuckled.

"I'm a bit overwhelmed by the gesture," Jem admitted.

"And not at all enjoying the idea that Pizzazz will throw a massive fit when she finds out?"

"Well, there is that," Jem allowed with a grin.

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The planned concert launching the new radio station should have been a massive publicity boon for the band. The organizational meeting had gone well and everything had started off well. The college students divided up the work between them while Rio and the Holograms volunteered their time getting things ready for the launch of the new venture.

Kara had recommended several good local bands she knew that would very likely support the new station for the publicity alone. Advertising rates were low enough to attract small businesses that normally could only afford ads in the Sunday paper. They had gotten off to a fine start.

The fact that it had fallen apart so completely was due entirely to the efforts of the man behind the door Jerrica and Kara were approaching.

"I can get the truth out of him," Kara said.

"I don't think it'll be necessary," Jerrica shook her head. "Even Eric's not dumb enough to stage a pirate broadcast that would lead us straight to him." The source of the broadcast that had knocked the KJEM live concert off the air still couldn't be localized and the FCC was getting frustrated.

Marcus had immediately recognized the voice of the DJ broadcasting the Misfits' music as that of Mr. Kite, the man who had made the buyout offer and an employee of a former employee of his station, the current owner of KBST. Lassiter, Marcus said, had been fired years ago for unscrupulous business practices that he had wanted no part of. It seemed that Lassiter held a grudge.

"Guess we'll find out," Kara paused as the approached the door. "Let me talk to him first. I think I can get an honest answer out of him." Jerrica looked curious, but didn't ask.

"Okay."

Kara opened the door to his office and walked in to find Raymond fiddling with the radio dial. "Where are they?" he muttered, twisting the dial again.

"Try KJEM," Kara told him, causing the man to start violently. "Where are they Raymond? Where is the pirate broadcast being sent from?"

"Pirate broadcast? What are you talking about?"

"The Misfits are playing a live concert on KJEM's frequency, blocking us out," Kara answered, "as I'm sure you know. Where are they?" she put her hands on his desk and glared at him.

"I-I have no idea! They were supposed to be playing a concert on KBST, their man, Kite arranged it all. He took them somewhere in a limo, you've got to believe me!"

"Really?" Kara drawled. "Why? This wouldn't be the stupidest thing you've ever done."

"Kara," Jerrica put a hand on her shoulder. "I believe him. Eric's not that dumb, evidence to the contrary," she added under her breath. "Come with us, Eric. We're going to KBST." Kara's hands tensed on the desk as if considering violence anyway.

"Fine. If you're lying, Raymond…" She left the sentence unfinished and gestured to the door.

Twenty minutes later found them ushered into the Lassiter's office on the top floor of a new office building. Raymond had told them a bit about the man on the way over. Lassiter owned the building and had his fingers in a lot of pies. Like Raymond, he had an interest in anything that generated money. Kara guessed that it was the only thing the man really cared about.

She watched the confrontation between the two men with interest, saying nothing for the moment. The smug look on the man's face pushed all the wrong buttons in the drummer. "How did you two meet anyway?" she asked. "Flunk the same business ethics course?"

Lassiter glanced over, as if noticing her for the first time. "And you are?"

"Annoyed. Raymond, make yourself useful and tell your friend how little I care about things like admissible evidence."

"Um… She doesn't care about such things," Raymond said as Kara started to walk toward Lassiter's desk. He glanced at the large picture window behind the other man as Jerrica looked back and forth between them in some confusion.

"How do I respond to strong arm tactics?" Kara continued.

Raymond took a step back, looking decidedly nervous and Lassiter's smug grin faded. "Violently," Raymond answered. He glanced at Lassiter. "You might want to get away from the window."

Lassiter ignored him. "Do you really think you can intimidate me? Even if you're willing to attack me, it won't help. If I had arranged this broadcast, don't you think I'd take precautions to distance myself from it; hypothetically speaking? Even if I were behind it, I'd know none of the details."

"So this'll just be for fun?" Kara asked resting her hands on the edge of his desk. "One more time. Where are they broadcasting from? FCC can't find them, like its coming from…thin…air." Kara grinned as she focused on something outside Lassiter's window. "Oh, that is clever." She abruptly turned away. "Come on, Jerrica. I know where they are."

She turned and started out of the office, but paused to call back over her shoulder. "Do you think Mr. Kite won't tell the police about you when he's arrested?" She continued out of the office, leaving Raymond sputtering behind them.

"So where are they?" Jerrica asked once they were back in the car.

"That plane." She pointed up at the cargo plane that was making another circuit of the area. "It's been circling since before the concert started. I think it's the same one Kimber's friend jumped from."

"Is that possible?"

"Not sure, but it's a big plane and they could have a portable generator and the equipment they need inside, easy." She got in. "Let's have a talk with the FCC and then the airport officials. See if we can't force them down."

"Um, Kara, what exactly was going on between you and Eric? And what why did Eric warn Lassiter away from the window?" She suddenly recalled Kara's offer to dangle Eric out of his office window until he gave up Taps' trumpet and wondered.

Kara thought a moment, before saying, "you'll be happier not knowing."

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The FCC agent they spoke to was dubious when Kara explained her theory, but he admitted that it did explain a lot.

"Sounds like something those lowlifes would be willing to do," Rio growled and headed for his van. Kara stepped into his path.

"And where are you going."

"To the airport to take care of this," he said trying to go around her.

"How?" she asked, blocking his path, not liking the tone or the look on his face. Rio was, she well knew, capable of being reckless when he got angry, and at the moment, he looked furious.

"I can get them to land," he said irritably.

"How?" she repeated. Then something occurred to her. "You aren't honestly thinking of using that new Piper Cub of yours to play chicken with their cargo plane?" Rio merely looked stubborn.

"Rio," Jerrica looked horrified at the idea. "That's crazy!"

"If you do that, they'll yank your license before you can land and you'll be sharing cell with Kite and the rest on top of it. It isn't just reckless, it's completely unnecessary."

"Coming from you-"

"Don't start," she cut him off. "I know my temper better than anyone, but the risks I take are mine alone. I don't risk other people's lives. Now if you'll calm down, I'll show you a better way." She turned to the FCC agent who'd watched the entire exchange with growing alarm. "Now that you have a good idea of where it is, do you think you can verify it, and get them shut down?"

"I have a few ideas that don't involve public endangerment," he confirmed. He made a few calls to his office and to officials from other agencies; the last one was to the airport's air traffic control tower. They were able to confirm, after a few minutes work, that a powerful signal was being broadcast from the plane. Within half an hour, the plane had been forced to land with threats of mounting criminal charges.

Jerrica and the rest wanted to be on hand for the arrest, but Kara pointed out that as much as she'd enjoy that herself, they had to be ready to start their concert the second the pirate broadcast was shut down.

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"I'm glad you were able to talk sense to Rio," Jerrica told her later, as they relaxed after the concert. It had been a taxing performance after all that had happened, and the downtime was welcome.

"His plan was stupid, and could have been suicidal."

"He does let his temper get the better of him," she allowed. "He isn't the only one, though, especially lately. You ready to talk about what's been bothering you?"

Kara thought for a moment. Finally, she decided to get it over with. "Hypertrophic scars," she said without preamble, "can be difficult to erase, especially deep ones. It would probably take several very expensive surgeries, lengthy unpleasant outpatient treatments and might not do the job completely."

"Oh." There didn't seem to be much else to say.

Kara hadn't given up on the idea, it wasn't in her nature, but if her life had taught her anything it was to be practical. She'd need another opinion and time to decide whether trying to remove the scars was worth the trouble and expense.


	23. DC Follies

CH. 23 D.C. FOLLIES

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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"A concert for the president?" Kara asked, incredulously.

"Apparently, he and his kids are big fans," Jerrica confirmed. "It's quite an honor."

"It might also be quite a headache. Won't the secret service object to not knowing Jem's real name? Background check at the minimum, I'd think."

"That's been taken care of. The president overrode objections on that score. Security will be tight, but we should be okay."

"Let's hope so," Aja chimed in. "I'm pretty sure the military was near the top of the list of people your father didn't want controlling Synergy." Jerrica looked momentarily worried, but pushed it aside.

"We'll take every precaution we can."

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The discovery that Synergy couldn't penetrate the Kennedy Center's security was an unpleasant one, but Jerrica made plans and pushed ahead, having the Holograms disassemble Synergy and bring her to D.C.

Getting her into the hotel room and assembled properly without too many people noticing took quite a bit of effort, but it was worth it when her screen came to life and Synergy's ever calm visage assured them that she was fine and that her proximity to the Kennedy center would allow her to transmit the holograms directly without the need for a satellite relay. The group set off for the theatre to look over the preparations. Fortunately, Jem reminded Kara to leave her knife in the room. She wasn't comfortable with the drummer carrying it to begin with, but made allowances given the trouble the group seemed to constantly attract.

"Security is going to be tight, there," Jem pointed out. "You wouldn't get it past the guards anyway and might get arrested."

"I suppose," Kara allowed reluctantly and put the knife under her pillow. "Want to make a bet that I'm going to regret not having it, though?"

Jem and the others shared a look, considering their recent history. "No. Not really."

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The stage was in order and the set looked good. Kara watched the Secret Service agents run through their checks and double-checks. They were thorough and professional and as Kara had expected, thoroughly annoying. The head of the President's security detail, a thuggish looking man named Hanley, had tried to convince Jem to reassure him that she posed no threat to the president by revealing her real name. Jem had politely refused, reminding him that the president himself had authorized the concert and was overlooking her decision to keep her secrets secret.

Hanley and Kara took an instant dislike to each other when the man had shown an interest in the drummer because of her arrest. She reminded him that the charges had been dropped and why, but he sent for copies of the police report and the court files, causing her to grind her teeth in annoyance, and although he satisfied himself as to the circumstances, her claim that she didn't remember any details from that night still made him wary. He was less than pleased at the idea of having her or Jem anywhere near the president.

Finally, they had gotten past the worst of it, and the concert was the next night. They were relaxing after a day of rehearsals mixed with some sightseeing when they got a call from the White House.

The invitation to dinner put everyone in good spirits. Synergy altered their appearance to something appropriate for a diner with the president and they headed out. They were met at the gate by an aide to the chief of staff. He checked his records and told them, someone must be playing a prank on them. The president was already engaged for the evening and there had been no invitation.

"Who would do that?" Aja wondered.

"I saw on the news earlier that the Misfits are in town," Kara offered. "I think they're upset over the publicity we're getting."

"Who?" the aide asked.

"The Misfits," Kara repeated. "Rival band. Prank calls are about their speed."

There were irritated groans from the others. Finally, Jem sighed. "Yeah, it was probably them. Okay, everyone, back to the hotel. I just hope they get bored with these silly pranks."

Annoyed and suspicious, the group headed back to the hotel. About 10 minutes from the hotel, Synergy called for help. Someone had broken into the hotel room. Contact was lost and the holographic disguises disrupted a few seconds later.

Jerrica stepped on the gas and got them there within a few minutes, having to run several red lights along the way. They were in time to see men loading Synergy onto a truck. The doors closed and the one man left outside headed for the cab. At Kara's suggestion, they stopped and watched from a distance. "Too dangerous to confront them. I think that one has a gun, and they're too well dressed for common thieves. Let's see where they go."

Jerrica agreed, following the truck discretely to… the Pentagon?

"What the hell?" Kara muttered. "This is making less and less sense."

It took the rest of the night to find someone who could tell them that an anonymous tip had led the FBI to seize the 'unauthorized equipment'. Kara asked exactly what Judge would sign a warrant for such a flimsy reason. The man didn't know and directed them to his superiors.

It was Jerrica's idea to go to the top, but Kara pointed out that breaking into the White House was unlikely to get them near the president, and displaying Synergy's abilities wouldn't help their case. When she had forcibly calmed herself, Jerrica placed a call to the man organizing the concert on the president's behalf.

The meeting was set for first thing in the morning, and they practically waited outside the gates. When told what she had in mind, Kara asked Jerrica precisely what she intended to say to the man to get Synergy back. Jerrica was disturbingly short on ideas, so the women began to bounce ideas off of each other. By the time of the scheduled meeting, she had several arguments ready to go.

Kara never did learn precisely how their manager convinced him, but the president agreed to halt the testing being done on the machine. He went toe the Pentagon in person and told the researchers that the agents who had seized it had overstepped their authority. The technology was unknown to them because it had never been patented, but it was neither illegal nor dangerous to the United States in any way, and he was not going to have the agents of the Federal government acting like common thieves.

Reluctantly, the technicians began to put Synergy back together. They were interrupted, though, when the lights went out. There was shouting, confusion and one voice demanding to be released. Kara recognized the president and ran toward the voice as fast as she could. She'd intended to handle it more gracefully; pull the President away from whoever was attacking him. In the dark, however, all she managed to do was run into them. Two bodies went down at the impact. There was more confusion as Secret Service agents rushed into the room to safeguard the president.

When the lights came on, they had surrounded Kara, the president, and a man in a revolutionary war-era uniform and a domino mask, all in a struggling pile on the floor. They quickly separated them, cuffing the 'Washington Marauder' and Kara while they helped the president up.

"Kara?" Jerrica asked in surprise. "Why are you cuffing her?"

"She attacked the president," Hanley informed them.

"Actually, she kept this man from kidnapping me," the President informed them. "I was just knocked down with him since she couldn't see us." He ordered Hanley to release her, and the secret service agents did so reluctantly.

"Have I done something specific to annoy you, Agent Hanley?" Kara asked, rubbing her wrists after she'd been released.

"I'm just doing my job."

"And very well I see. We're at the Pentagon and this man gets close enough to grab the President while dressed like that." Kara looked at the would-be kidnapper. "How exactly was this supposed to work?" she asked the thief as Hanley sputtered. "How did you intend to escape with him?"

"That's my secret," the man answered as smugly as he could under the circumstances.

"I'm sure we'll be able to get it out of him," Hanley assured the president. "We should be able to get everything he's stolen back as well."

"No one touches my collection," the man snapped, growing angry.

The President just shook his head. "Get him out of here."

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The press conference that followed was a tremendous publicity boon, but Kara turned down a presidential award. It didn't seem to her she'd done all that much by tackling the man. She'd told the President what her intentions had been and how things hadn't gone quite as planned. He had just chuckled. "I couldn't see anything either. In this instance, it's results that count." He had thanked her for her help publicly and gracefully accepted her refusal of a medal.

Synergy was returned to the group without any further trouble and the concert went ahead as planned to a packed Kennedy Center.


	24. Tongues and Other Sharp Implements

CH. 24 TONGUES AND OTHER SHARP IMPLEMENTS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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The favorable publicity gained for the band actually grated on Kara a bit. She got tired of telling the story and really tired of people asking personal questions. Over the next two months, Kara became increasingly popular with the press, sometimes to the amusements of her band mates, sometime to their chagrin. Reporters found that they could get memorable sound bites by sneaking up on her while she was angry or stressed about something. Jerrica asked her, only half-joking, to leave her knife at home, something that made the drummer roll her eye at the lack of faith in her self-control.

Jerrica was called into the living room to watch something on TV. "I'm kind of busy, girls, what is this about?"

"You should see this," Ashley told her, "you too, Aja."

The two women glanced at each other with matching looks of incomprehension and settled down to watch with three of the Starlight girls. The smirking host of Cool Trash's TV show came on. "We all know that Jem and the Holograms' drummer has a sharp tongue and a ready wit, and she's been using them again." Jerrica winced, bracing herself for whatever Kara had said on camera this time.

A clip began to play. Kara and Eric Raymond could be seen standing apart from the crowd at the party they'd attended the previous night. Why people continued to invite both groups to the same parties was a mystery to everyone. It never ended well. The two were obviously angry and the camera moved towards the pair quickly. Before the microphone came within range to pick up their words, Eric turned and stormed off. They were within range, however, when Aja approached the drummer, who had her back to the camera.

Aja groaned. "Oh no."

On screen, Aja was laughing as she said to Kara, "Don't hold back, tell me what you really think of him."

Jerrica's eyes widened in horror.

"I think," Kara growled, "that if Eric Raymond took Viagra, he'd get taller." The Aja on the screen doubled over with laughter while the one in the living room wished for a hole to crawl into.

"Jerrica… Honestly, I had no idea he was there," she said as the studio audience howled with mirth. The head of Starlight Music dropped her head in her hands and groaned.

"What's Viagra?" Ba Nee asked.

"Ask again in 10 years," Kara advised from behind the couch, causing them all to turn and look at her. She was glaring at the smug face of the man who'd practically made an art of provoking her and catching her unawares. "That man needs a bell surgically attached to him."

"Will you try not to say _that_ in front of the press?" Jerrica practically begged.

"Or do," Ashley snickered. "I'd love to see his face."

"Not helping," Jerrica cast the 14 year-old an exasperated look. "I wonder if Eric will sue."

"Who would he sue?" Kara asked reasonably. "I'm not the one who put it on the air, and he's had much worse things said about him to his face in private. I know, I've said some of them."

Ashley fell off the couch laughing.

"You're probably right," Jerrica sighed, casting an irritated glance at the giggling blond girl on the floor. "I think I'll still give Starlight's in-house lawyer a call." She turned back to Kara.

"I know," the drummer said irritably before she could speak. "Be careful what I say to the press… or in public for that matter." Jerrica winced at her tone, and then sighed.

"Sorry, Kara. I didn't mean it like that."

The drummer swallowed her irritation. "I know. I didn't mean to snap, but this clown is becoming a real thorn in my side."

"For all of us," Jerrica agreed. "I don't blame you for this. I'm just frustrated." She shook her head. "This will blow over. I think you're right about Eric not being able to sue you."

"What would he even sue for?" Aja asked.

"Definition of character," Kara suggested.

"Not funny," Jerrica said as Ashley burst out in fresh giggles and Aja hid a smirk.

"I'm hardly worth suing," Kara pointed out. "Most of my salary goes into savings for the girls' college fund. I own a 15 year old car, no home, and no substantial possessions. If he wants an apology, he can talk to Cool Trash."

"Sounds reasonable," Aja shrugged. Jerrica was less sure but hopeful as she made a call to Starlight's lawyer. The man was cautiously confident that he could block any lawsuit Raymond tried to file, given the circumstances.

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The group's Whistle Stop Tour gave Kara the opportunity to finally see snow as their route took them into several of the northern states. The Misfits' embarrassment in D.C., something Kara made a point of mentioning in passing in front of the press, had convinced the other group to stay home and out of the public eye for a time, so the only excitement on the tour was an attempted robbery.

A man posing as a security guard had gotten aboard the train and attempted to make off with the proceeds from the concerts and the charitable donations the band had been collecting. Kara had nothing to do with stopping the man; something the reporters who interviewed the band after the fact seemed to find amusing for reasons that escaped the drummer. She did take it as another reason to keep carrying her knife.

All in all, there was little excitement to be had, for which they were all grateful. Things were different in England, though.


	25. ACROSS THE POND AND IN HOT WATER

CH. 25 ACROSS THE POND AND IN HOT WATER

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I have been thinking about comments on the story on and offline as well as standard questions addressed by many Jem fics. Finally, I decided to put it to the readers. There are two questions I want you to consider.

1. Should Jerrica tell Rio her secret?

2. Should Kara be paired with someone? If so, who?

Cast your votes in a review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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The Renaissance fair seemed to be a great success. There were period costumes, exhibits, demonstrations of glassblowing and ironworking, as well as an amazing variety of food, most of which, Kara was pretty sure had not been available during the renaissance.

"'Ye Olde Caramel Corn?'" Kara read the sign aloud, not sure whether to laugh or not. The vendor chuckled and shrugged. With a slight smile, she bought a bag and moved down the lane to watch a group of jugglers. That was where Jem found her.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"I am," Kara nodded. "Even the anachronisms are fun."

"Anachronisms?"

Kara held up the bag and Jem read the side before giggling. "Seriously?"

"I thought I'd try a little stand called Camelot Cuisine next. Want to join me?"

"Pass," she smiled. "Lord Carfax is about to make his speech. Let's go."

They met the others near the stage and took their places while Reginald Carfax made his opening remarks, welcoming everyone and reminding them that he'd be 21 at midnight and assume his rightful place as lord of Carfax County. The locals seemed less than pleased. There were even some boos from the audience.

When the crowd dispersed to their work, Kara and the others went back to enjoying the fair, at least until Jem spotted a man dressed as Robin Hood robbing the guards.

"Are they performers?" Cheyna wondered. A moment later it became obvious they weren't.

"Come on," Jem called, rushing off. "We've got to help the guards." Kara was game and went along with the rest. They reached a spot near the back of the stage where Jem was certain the thieves would come out, though Kara doubted the lead singer actually had a plan.

It turned out there was no need for one as the two guards who had chased the thieves into the shadows under the stage stumbled out, tied together. While the rest of the group puzzled over it, Kara drew a knife from the belt of one of the bound men and started to cut them free.

"Stop where you are!" a voice behind her called. "Drop the knife."

Kara turned to see two more guards rushing towards her, dressed for the fair as the others were, in costumes that resembled armor and tunics. She sighed and casually tossed the knife to the ground. _Really, I should be used to this by now_, she thought.

When that confusion was sorted out, which necessitated a brief meeting with the future Lord Carfax, Kara was left with an apology from the guards and an invitation to dinner from Reginald Carfax. Given the mutters she'd heard, she didn't particularly want to, but decided she should know more about him, so she accepted.

Danse, who seemed to have developed an obsession with the man who called himself Robin Goodfellow, was angry but accepted Kara's reasoning. For the rest of the day, till the archery tournament began, Kara watched the guards and the vendors, seeing how money was 'collected' for fees and fines within the castle walls. The more she saw, the less she wanted to do with Reginald Carfax.

The archery tournament was fun to watch. Kara didn't bother participating. When someone attempted to hand her a bow, she shook her head. "Doubt I could hit the ground with it."

"Not really the point," Cheyna smiled. "I don't think I've ever used one of these that didn't have a suction cup on the end. It's all in fun."

"No depth perception, remember?" Kara shrugged. "With that in my hands the safest place to be would be in front of the target."

"There is that," Aja allowed. Kara was given a pass on the tournament.

Robin Goodfellow's arrest at the archery tournament was almost directly out of the story of Robin Hood, Kara thought, wondering if that was intentional on Robin's part. Kara had to hold Danse back at one point, assuring her that Robin would be fine and that they'd get him out.

Reluctant though she was to be in the same room with the man, Kara agreed to go to dinner in order to distract Reginald while the others snuck into the castle to search for evidence. Kara was just glad she had persuaded them not to physically attack the guards as Jem had first been inclined to.

"Bad idea," Kara had insisted. "For one thing, none of you know how to fight, and what good," she asked, looking at Jem's outfit, "is a holographic sword going to do you?" She shook her head. "I know you want to do something, and you know, I've nothing against violence, but there has to be some sense to it. The best thing to do is stay out of sight, and sneak into the castle later to free Robin. You should be able to do that," Kara gave a significant glance at Jem's earrings. "He told Danse that he can find evidence against Carfax."

"That would be more useful than getting the money back for a few people," Jem allowed.

"Less dangerous, too," Kara nodded. "I'm betting at least a few of the guards actually know how to use their swords." The others glanced at each other uncomfortably and nodded their agreement to Kara's plan. Kara had noticed earlier that what appeared to be armor was just patterned cloth, a costume, but the swords were real enough, from the Lord's collection. They were once part of the castle's armory but had long since become useless as weapons, save on occasions like this. The fair gave them a chance to get dressed up and actually carry the weapons.

Moving through the castle corridors behind the ever-so-polite-and –proper servant, Kara made a note of their route and any side passages in case it became necessary to leave in a hurry. Jerrica was normally level-headed and meticulous. At the moment, however, her sense of justice was being challenged and she felt the urge to do something. Whether that something would be sensible was anyone's guess.

Kara readily acknowledged that she wasn't in a position to criticize someone else's temper. She'd made some rash decisions, certainly, but she found herself in the unusual position of being the objective one. As much as she disliked dealing with the authorities, bringing them in would have been a nice option.

Sadly, for all intents and purposes, Reginald and Broadbent, the regent, were the law in the county, and little could be done as there was no evidence that they had broken any laws. Their men were heavy handed and skirted the law at the best of times, but none were likely to be charged. She was used to police being useless, but in this instance they were actually the enemy.

Her musings were interrupted by their arrival at the dining room. It was large and lavishly decorated. The table looked like it would seat 20 easily and Reginald Carfax stood alone at the head, waiting for her. Only two places were set. Kara thought it rather wasteful, but said nothing of that as she was led to the table and seated.

Carfax did his best to be charming, but knowing what she did of him, the effort was in vain and she found it hard to be civil. The food was good, not surprisingly, and Kara tried to enjoy it while keeping up a light banter with her host. She wondered how he would react if he knew about her scars. As he praised her beauty several times, though, she doubted he knew either about the scars or her twin daughters. She managed a genuine smile for a moment by thinking about the girls and how much they would have enjoyed the fair. Their seventh birthday was coming up soon and she needed to think of something special to do for them.

When Broadbent barged in and announced that Jem and the others had broken into the castle, Kara decided it was time to leave. Becoming Reggie's hostage wasn't on her list of things to do that night, so she slipped away while they argued.

Evading them wasn't that difficult, but it took time to do it successfully and find the others. It was the shouting that led her to Robin. Overhearing four of the guards rushing by the alcove where she currently hid talking about intruders in the dungeon caught her attention and she followed them carefully. They headed down a stone staircase and it was almost too easy to push the last one in line and send all four tumbling down the last few steps.

Robin, Aja, and Kimber stared at her as she jumped from one groaning or unconscious man to the next, eliciting louder groans and one scream when she accidentally stepped on a shoulder she suspected was dislocated.

"I thought you were the one telling us to avoid violence," Kimber said, looking at the pile up with alarm.

"I said I don't mind violence as long as there's a good reason for it."

"And what, pray tell," Robin asked, "was the reason for that?"

"They were in my way." Kara answered easily. "Oh, and they were going to lock you in the cell with him, assuming you weren't killed 'resisting arrest.'" She glanced at the crates the other Holograms were holding. "Tell me you weren't planning on blowing the door down."

Kimber blushed and Aja grimaced. "We really didn't think that out too well," the Chinese woman admitted.

"Perhaps I can help?" They turned to see one of Robin's men coming into the room with Jem, Cheyna, Rio, and Danse. They noted the pile of guards curiously, but each for their own reason, decided not to comment.

"Jack," Robin grinned and then stood back as his friend used his staff to break the lock.

"So where's this dirt we can dish at Reggie?" Cheyna asked. "We'll get him in enough hot water to cook a herd of elephants."

"I…don't know."

"You don't know?" Several voices asked at once.

"All I know is that from a young age, I recall a voice telling me to look within the castle catacombs. "

"There's an entrance to those through here," Jack pointed.

"We haven't got much time," Kara pointed out. "We need to delay the ceremony if we can."

"I think I've got an idea," Rio smiled.

They separated. Robin, Danse and the rest headed off with Rio and Robin to create a diversion while Kara and Jem set out to search the catacombs. Several fruitless minutes later, they heard a voice calling for help, and Jem put an ear to the wall, certain the voice was coming from behind it.

"It's still wet," she said to Kara as she began tearing down the wall. Kara pitched in and soon the cell and the old man within were revealed.

"We're almost out of time," Kara said as they set to work freeing the prisoner from his cell and chains.

Jem nodded. "I know. We've got about 60 seconds to prove that Reggie isn't the rightful lord."

"I can help with that," the old man told them, "if you can free me."

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It was raining money when they emerged into the courtyard and Robin was being passed over the crowd by his cheering admirers. The guards quickly surrounded him, but Jem ended Reggie's reign even before it began by introducing the crowd to Lord Carfax.

The former prisoner explained to the crowd how Duncan Broadbent had locked him in the catacombs nearly 20 years ago and cast his son out as an orphan, while claiming that his own son was Lord Carfax' heir. The guards responded badly to the news, even as the crowd deafened them with cheers over their new lord, Robin Goodfellow Carfax.

Not surprisingly, the group's exploits brought them extra publicity and the British press' 'silly season' got a lot sillier in Kara's opinion.


	26. Hot Water Again

CH. 26 HOT WATER AGAIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Their time in England was extended, unexpectedly. They received an invitation to participate in a shared concert at The Unicorn Club, a new place that was just opening in London. The owner, Kara reasoned, wanted to make a name for the club as the place for prominent, as well as up and coming, bands to play.

Their hosts, the Bluebloods, were a talented group that Jem believed, after hearing their music, had a lot of potential. She agreed to the concert and determined to talk business with them if they're on stage performance was as good as their playing. The Holograms were excited to spend a little time in London.

The group was met at the train station by Sir Hugh Ridley, the owner of the club, who assured them that all the preparations had been made, but otherwise waved away talk of business for the time being in order to show them a little of the city. They had traveled to London by train at the suggestion of Lord Carfax. It was great way, he had told them, to see the English countryside, and Jem had thought it sounded like fun. It had been. The scenery was beautiful; the ride had been smooth, and much to Kara's surprise, uneventful. She had grown used to something strange and potentially dangerous happening whenever the group started to relax. As the train pulled into the London station, she crossed her fingers, hoping it would be a peaceful visit.

At first, things went well. Ridley gave them a brief tour of the city and stopped for a quick meal at a small restaurant that he recommended and that proved to have wonderful food. Kara had done a little reading on Ridley. The man was well known for his charitable endeavors, and it came out during the meal that the proceeds were going to help a friend of his. Kara wasn't surprised by the news, and she could appreciate the win-win situation for Ridley as the concert would be a big boost for his club. For the moment, however, he seemed more interested in showing his guests a good time than in discussing business.

Soon, they were on their way to the Unicorn Club, a nice looking building in one of London's upper-class areas. They arrived just as the band was finishing rehearsal and Ridley introduced them to Mason, the group's leader, Alan, their keyboardist, and James on backup guitar. Cheyna was overjoyed to see the group's drummer, Craig Philips. Unfortunately, things went downhill from there.

The trouble started with a surprise visitor. None of them were expecting to see Stormer at the club, let alone the warm greeting that she and Craig exchanged. "Aja," Craig turned to the confused guitarist. "I've been keeping a little secret from you. I think you know Mary Philips, my-"

"Your wife?!" Aja cried out angrily and slapped him before rushing out, telling him to never speak to her again. Kara stared incredulously at Craig as he sputtered in shock as the door swing shut behind her.

"What the hell, Philips? I thought you told her," Kara said, drawing startled looks from the others.

"Told her what?" Kimber asked for the others, diverted from the scolding she'd been prepared to give Craig and Stormer.

"I'm not Craig's wife," Stormer spoke up. "I'm his sister."

"You need to talk to her," Kara told the angry blue-haired man; ignoring, for the moment, the curious looks Jem and the other Holograms were giving her.

"She's the one who jumped to conclusions," he snapped, still smarting from the slap Aja had given him. "She can apologize to me!" Deciding to leave it to cooler heads, Kara headed out the door with Jem and the others to find Aja and try to calm her down so they could tell her the truth.

Most of the Bluebloods followed, leaving Stormer and a still fuming Craig behind. She tried to reason with her brother, and finally managed to calm him down. He reluctantly agreed to go after Aja and try to make things right between them. The two had almost reached the door when the stage exploded, decimating the club.

Sir Hugh and the Bluebloods raced back into the club and managed to extract Craig and Stormer from the wreckage before the roof fell in. A fire truck arrived within minutes of the blast with the police and an ambulance right behind it. Fortunately, no one had been seriously hurt, and Aja got the chance to make up with Craig while he was being looked over by a paramedic. Kara suspected Jo would have made some comment about playing doctor, and hid a smile, before turning back to more serious matters.

Mason Hawthorne was fuming. He told them that he had a pretty good idea who was behind the bomb, and was headed to Wissex to confront the man responsible. It seemed that Mason had an uncle who didn't want him turning 21, which would happen that night at 8:00.

Jem, seeing the temper he was in, insisted that she, Kara, and Kimber accompany him to the family estate in order to confront his uncle and try to discover the truth. Sir Hugh insisted on going along with them to back up his friend. Mason wasn't in the mood to wait or to think things through, but Kara pointed out that, at the very least, he could use some unbiased witnesses. Mason agreed, and the group made excellent time, arriving, as they later discovered, just in time.

When they got there, they found the place in chaos. Pizzazz, Roxy, and Jetta were making themselves at home in a well-appointed sitting room that looked like it had been hit by a cyclone. There was a fox perched on a grandfather clock, wrecked furniture, and mud and hoof prints on the carpet. Kara was pretty sure she didn't want to know how that had come about. At Mason's order, the fox leaped from the clock, snatched some official looking papers from under Pizazz' nose and jumped into a furious Mason's arms, bringing a sudden stop to group's fun.

"It is now 8:00," Mason declared, "and I hereby claim my title as Lord Hawthorne, Earl of Wissex and Master of this Estate." The announcement had an effect on everyone in the room. Jem gaped. A dignified looking older man they later learned was Mason's uncle, groaned in despair and collapsed into a chair. A balding man with a bad comb over and a dumpy woman in what looked to be borrowed finery made a break for the door. Jetta moved to follow them, with Pizazz hot on her heels screaming threats at the sax player. "After them!" Mason shouted. Kara took off in pursuit with the others, but was soon diverted by the sight of two thuggish looking men running for the gate. To her surprise, she recognized them.

"Those are the workmen from the club earlier today," she said to the newly revealed Earl. Mason and Hugh picked up the pace; more determined than ever that the two not get away. They seemed have things well in hand, at least after Jem had Synergy block the path with a pack of holographic dogs, so Kara set off after the Misfits and the older couple.

She had only taken a few steps, however, when a pained grunt and the sound of running feet caused her to turn. Sir Hugh had either missed his target or been thrown off and one of the men was running in her direction.

He was larger than she and didn't seem terribly worried when Kara put herself directly in his path. "Pick yer fights more carefully, bint," he snarled, apparently intent on knocking her aside to make his escape. "I'm bigger'n you!"

"Stupider too," Kara answered as she caught his swing, bent at the knees and twisted her body to meet his. Her self-defense instructors had always insisted during practice that their students use their hips as the fulcrum point and maintain their grip so as to lay their opponents down as gently as possible when performing a body throw. Kara met his charge with her shoulder and released her grip at the peak of his arc. Even she was surprised by the distance he traveled before hitting the ground with a painful sounding thud. She was on top of him before he could think about getting up. "You'll want to hold very still," she told him. His eyes widened at the sight of the blade a few inches from his face.

"That was quite impressive," Hugh said, hurrying over to assist with Kimber right behind him.

"It looked like you were trying to put him into orbit," the redhead enthused. "Where'd you learn that?"

Kara didn't take her eyes off the man she was guarding. "Girl needs to know how to defend herself," she told them. "Have the police been called?"

"They're on their way," Kimber assured them. "I called while you were chasing these guys." She looked around. "Where are the Misfits and that couple?"

The distraction had let the Misfits and the older couple slips away. Once the police had arrived to take charge of the men, Kara and Kimber went searching for them with Sir Hugh to guide them around the estate. It took time to locate them, the place was quite large, but Pizazz' voice was distinctive even when she was whispering. Kara could hear her from outside the stables as she berated Jetta for lying to her and trying to cheat her. The others tried to hush her, arguing that she'd be in trouble too if they were found, but Pizazz either didn't believe anything Jetta said anymore or she didn't care.

"Fun's over," Kara said, stepping into the stables. "Come with us."

There was a little grumbling from Jetta's parents, but none of them was inclined to argue. Hawthorne was not happy with them, but a whispered suggestion from Jem made him laugh. Kara suspected that none of the Misfits would find it funny.

Within an hour, all five of them were dressed as servants and working to repair the damage they'd done to the manor. It had been that or joining Mason's uncle behind bars. Kara wasn't sure if Pizazz and Roxy had actually committed any crimes, but they accepted Mason's 'offer' with bad grace. With the arrest of the former Earl, the creditors who had been hounding him were frustrated for a day or two but soon zeroed in on Mason who by that time had a plan.

The benefit originally planned to take place at the Unicorn Club was moved to the estate in Wissex and a surprising number of people made the trip from London to see it. The audience was bigger than originally anticipated and the money rolled in. By the time it was over, there was enough to pay off the estate's bills and rebuild Sir Hugh's club.

Kara spoke to the Misfits briefly; neither Jem nor Kimber bothered, and learned the truth behind their presence at the estate. She sighed and shook her head. "Conning your own group, Jetta? Really? Lies have a way of catching up with you even when they aren't intended to be harmful. It gets to be like digging a hole. The only sensible thing to do is stop before you bury yourself."

"What would you know about it?" she huffed. "My parents…" she trailed off with a grimace. Clearly their relationship wasn't all it could be.

"More than you might think," Kara countered. "Really think you're the only one embarrassed by family connections? I just don't lie about mine if they come up."

The Misfits glanced at her, curiously. Had the British sax player been a cat, her ears would have perked up. "Do tell?"

"No. Wouldn't be a secret then."

Pizzazz rolled her eyes. "Leave it, Jetta. You're in enough trouble as it is without getting on her bad side." She then realized something, and glanced at Kara. "In the garden that night… you said…" she shook her head. "Never mind. Not my business, or theirs," she added, nodding toward the other Misfits.

Kara nodded, satisfied.

At her urging, the involvement of the Misfits and the Holograms in that night's excitement was kept away from the press. Jem and the others agreed it would be petty to embarrass Pizzazz that way, and they didn't really need the attention themselves.


	27. Hollywood

CH. 27 HOLLYWOOD

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. Sorry for the late posting. Power spike took down the modem. Just got it running again. Please read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara watched with the other members of the household, just as eager as the rest to learn if Jem had made the cut. The envelope was opened and Jem's nomination for an Academy Award became official. She held back from the group hug, as usual, but added her congratulations.

Jo had gone to see the Jem movie when it came out, and Kara suppressed a smile at the memory of wondering which of them her friend had drooled over. Kara had occasionally taken her daughters to the theatre, but it was a rare treat. There were always better things to spend money on. Seeing how the process worked from the inside should be interesting.

There was work to do in the meantime, though. Club dates, concerts, and much to everyone's surprise, an invitation to appear on the Harriet Horne show along with the other nominees.

Jem accepted, pointing out to a wary Kara that the other nominees would be there and it might hurt her chances if she didn't appear. Kara had nodded, reluctantly. "Just watch your back. I don't know if she'll hold a grudge or not."

"Guess I'll find out," Jem had shrugged.

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"Will the battle between Geraldine Pathos and Jem tear the film industry apart?" the woman on screen asked. "Hear what Cool Trash experts have to say in this month's Cool Trash Magazine."

Jerrica switched off the TV with a frustrated noise. "Not a word, Kara," she groused. "They've been running that ad 20 times a day for weeks. I think that's enough of an 'I told you so.'"

"I wasn't going to say that," Kara looked up in surprise from the trade magazine she'd been glancing through. "It wasn't Horne who started the trouble. Though that does surprise me," she added thoughtfully.

"Don't take it personally," Aja advised with a slight smile. "It's Cool Trash. It's pretty much what they do." Whatever answer Jerrica might have made was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. A moment later, Ba Nee ushered the Countess Danielle DuVoisin was ushered into the room.

"Oh, Jerrica, I'm so glad you are here!"

"What's wrong, Countess?" Jerrica asked, standing with a worried frown. It was rare to see the normally unflappable designer in such a state. She seemed genuinely upset about something.

"It's about Howard. You must get Jem at one. We need her help!"

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"What's the emergency?" Jem asked as the group followed the Countess toward the sound stage.

"It's Howard's star! She's driving him crazy, throwing tantrums, and costing the studio millions!" She led the way inside and Kara lagged behind the group a bit to look around curiously as it was her first time seeing a movie studio. It wasn't long before a loud argument caught her attention, though.

"I'm not appearing on screen with a stupid TV!" The irate woman glared at Sands while not even acknowledging the face on the screen.

"But, Cherries, we've been over this a hundred times! It's your co-star," Howard Sands tried to reason with the redheaded woman, whose name suited her hair.

"I don't care," she huffed. "Either it goes or I go."

Kara tuned out the rest of the tirade in favor of looking around. The cameras and equipment were in position, the set was ready, and everyone was looking tense and impatient. She wondered how much money the actress' histrionics were costing.

"First time on a soundstage?" a man asked.

"Yes," Kara turned to find a handsome blond man in a set of motorcycle leathers watching her. She paused briefly to take him in. "I'm Kara Mistral."

"Jeff Wright. You're with Jem and the Holograms, right?"

"Yes. Jem was called down to the studio for some reason." She looked away from the handsome young man and turned back toward the group in time to hear the Countess volunteer Jem for the lead in the movie. "Oh. This should be interesting."

"More than you know," the man said quietly. She glanced back at him, curious at the change in his tone, and then followed his gaze to Kimber where she was hugging Sean Harrison hello.

She turned back to ask, but the man had already withdrawn. Kara wondered briefly at that, but dismissed it when she was called over to greet Sean and Howard. She had spoken briefly to the two at parties and such that the Holograms had attended, but didn't know them well. Kimber and the others tried to remedy that while Jem reviewed the script.

They were half-way through the story about the battle of the bands, when Jem finished perusing the script. "Howard, this is wonderful. I'll be happy to do it."

"What about the nomination?" Kimber asked. "What will the reporters say when you start a new movie?"

"Who cares?" Kara put in. "You can't spend your life worrying about what other people think."

"Yeah," Jem grinned. "This'll be fun; I can't wait to get started."

"Good," Sands brightened immediately. "We'll need to get the preliminaries out of the way today and you can start rehearsals tomorrow. There are plenty of scenes we can film without waiting, though." He turned to the production crew who'd been anxiously waiting and gave a series of orders that set everyone scrambling. Turning back to Jem, his smile widened. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Happy to help, Howard," she assured him.

Within an hour, the paperwork was finished. The previous leading lady walked out and Jem set to memorizing the script. Kara looked forward to the work, even if she wasn't sure what she could contribute to the picture. She also wondered what sort of problems the movie would bring.

She wasn't long in finding out, though the first real problem came from an unexpected source a few days after shooting began.

ROCKNROLLROCKNROLLROCKNROLL

Francois Truje's mansion was impressive, as were the people. Kimber oohed and ahhed and occasionally squealed over the people she saw there. Kara took it in quietly, feeling like a fish out of water despite the number of parties she'd attended as part of the band.

The number of movie and TV stars present was amazing and it didn't take Kimber long to get into the swing of things. Kara was having a conversation with Flint Westwood, an action film star she vaguely recalled from various cop movies, and some of his friends, including the female lead from his last movie when Kimber's laughter caught her attention. She glanced over to see the group's keyboardist, Sean Harrison, and a few others soaking in a hot tub, clothes and all, sipping champagne.

"That's one way to ruin a designer dress," Kara observed and Westwood chuckled. "It takes a little getting used to. Attend enough of these parties and you'll see wilder things."

"So true," the actress, Patty something, Kara thought, interjected. "Are the parties rock groups throw all that different?" She had been polite enough at first, but as Westwood paid more attention to Kara, the starlet was beginning to look a bit annoyed. "I've heard some wild stories. Drugs, cheap booze and such." She took a sip of her champagne to emphasize the word 'cheap.'

Kara shrugged. The actress' veiled insults meant nothing to her. "I must be attending different parties, then. The one's I've been to have been fairly laid back, assuming the Misfits don't drive a car through the middle of them or do something equally ridiculous."

Westwood chuckled. "A car?"

"They weren't invited," she explained, turning to face him more directly, "and apparently, that was their way of protesting."

"Not so different then," he nodded with a smile. "Just a matter of scale."

"So should I be expecting a bulldozer or a tricycle?" Kara asked, eliciting laughter from several members of the group she stood with. Patty laughed with the rest and leaned closer to Westwood.

"A tricycle?" the actress tittered. "Sounds like something Arnie might do for laughs. You remember that party last month?"

"You never know," Westwood answered, ignoring Patty. "One of the things that make these parties so much fun. I'm hoping you'll get the chance to see for yourself. New faces always liven up these parties."

"I don't think it's really her scene," Patty put in. She glanced at Kara. "You started out with garage bands, right?"

Kara nodded, not the least embarrassed about it, but beginning to get irritated with the other woman. Patty emptied her champagne glass and reached for another from a passing waiter. "I tended to live had to mouth back then. Not much time for parties of any kind."

"Not with two little rug rats at home," she agreed. "How are they taking to actually having a nice place to live? Being around famous musicians and such?"

"People are people no matter how much money they have," Kara said with a shrug. "So in the important ways, our lives aren't all that different." She gestured to the other guests. "I've done my research. A lot of the people here weren't born rich. Like me, they got a lucky break and then worked their tails off."

"The people are what matters," Westwood agreed, giving Patty an annoyed look when she gave an indignant sniff at Kara's statement. "Everyone starts somewhere. You'd be amazed how many people here started off waiting tables or selling used cars."

"And how few want to be reminded of it," another actor laughed. "Those were actually some good times, though. My first job at Taco Hut, I had a boss who was miles better than the last director I had to deal with."

"Perhaps," Patty allowed, "but why dwell on such unpleasantness?" She noticed that Westwood's glass was empty and motioned for a waiter. "Here, Flint dear, let me freshen you up. Oh, and one for the drummer too." The word 'drummer' was said with clear distaste.

"None for me," Kara shook her head, ignoring the actress' tone. "I don't drink."

"Oh?" Westwood asked. "That's kind of rare in a line of work with so much stress."

"Is it because of that drunk that sliced up your face?" Patty asked innocently, and rather loudly, the champagne was starting to take its toll. "Yeah that probably would give you an aversion to drinking."

Kara regarded her silently for a few seconds as the people around them looked startled and a few snuck not-so-discrete glances at her as if trying to spot the scars. "That's part of it," she admitted. "A good enough reason anyway, to avoid alcohol… and drunks." She turned away from Patty and proceeded to ignore her, continuing her conversation with the others.

Another actress snickered. "Mrowr!"

Westwood decided to follow her lead, but the conversation didn't last long. An impromptu interview being held nearby by Truje caught their attention. Kara heard Jem's name mentioned and excused herself to move closer. The French director was standing by his swimming pool posing for pictures with two women who were probably models if not aspiring actresses.

"So there's absolutely no truth to the rumor that you asked Jem to star in your next movie?" a female reporter Kara recognized as working for Cool Trash asked.

"Absolutely none," he asserted, sounding vaguely offended by the idea.

"But the rumor is that you asked Jem to play the lead because you need a commercial star to help your box office," another spoke up.

Truje sniffed haughtily. "As you know, I do not cater to the whims of the American public. Perhaps Jem's own publicity machine started this rumor." That was as far as he got. Rio was suddenly there, gathering the man's shirtfront in his hands and glaring at the startled director.

"I hate deception and I despise liars; so you can imagine what I think of you!" With that, Rio tossed their host into the swimming pool.

Kara sighed as the irate Frenchman came up sputtering and shouting threats. "And people call me a hothead. I think the party's over."

"Looks like," Westwood agreed trying not to laugh at Truje's plight. "Hope this won't be the last Hollywood party you attend. Your group sure livened things up."

"Glad we could be entertaining," Kara answered drily. She noted Jem giving Rio a hug, and resisted the urge to sigh again. That was none of her business.

ROCKNROLLROCKNROLLROCKNROLL

"So, Kimber went swimming in a dress that would have cost you several months' rent at your old place, Rio tossed your host into the pool, and you called Patty Starling a drunk in front of a crowd of some of the biggest names in Hollywood. That about sum it up?" Jo asked, laughing, as she served another portion of the lasagna she'd made for dinner.

"Pretty much," Kara nodded, leaning back in her chair. It had been two days since the party and the two were enjoying a quiet meal at Jo's apartment. Their dinners had become a regular event, and one of Kara's favorite ways to unwind. She couldn't have a conversation like this with her kids for obvious reasons, and there just wasn't as much history with the other Holograms.

"And he actually called himself 'artistry incarnate'?" Jo laughed and shook her head. "Sorry I missed it."

"Me too. Oh. Kimber and Sean left together and she didn't come back till the next morning."

"Huh. Well, she's a big girl."

"Not my business," Kara agreed, having long ago learned to avoid other people's romantic entanglements. "I just hope she doesn't get hurt. She seemed pretty depressed the next day, but wouldn't talk about it."

"Don't get in the middle of it," Jo advised.

"Not a chance."


End file.
